How to Save a Life
by Cassie-Black1
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts for his 7th year, Draco is horrified to realise he is in love with Harry Potter. Harry is consumed with guilt following the defeat of Voldemort and feels abandoned by his friends. Can Draco save him from himself? DH but not epilogue
1. The Beginning

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to JKR and Warner Bros - I'm just allowed bring them out to play now and again!

"Oh Shit!"Draco Malfoy woke with a start, the white blonde hair plastered to his forehead bearing evidence of the sweat that now covered his body in a fine sheen. Quickly brushing his hair back, he rubbed desperately at his eyes as if to erase a vision from his sight. His lips all the while moving in their new mantra."Oh Shit! Oh Shit! Oh Shit!"

Pulling the covers of his slightly shaking body, he swung his legs round to the floor and made for his private bathroom. Barely had his feet touched the ground before he felt the sticky sensation in his pyjama pants that brought back the full horror of this situation.

Heading to the bathroom and quickly removing the offending clothing, he stepped into his shower and turned the water onto cold, very cold. Mentally berating himself for his weakness, leaning his head against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall. A wet dream for fucks sake! What was he – 12?

And not just your average wet dream, oh no. Draco's subconscious had betrayed him in the most unimaginably evil manner. Horrifically the star performer in tonight's entertainment had been none other than 'The Boy Who Lived' – Harry Potter himself!

Not that Draco was averse to dreaming about another man. He had known for years that pleasure for him lay within his own sex. But Potter, what the bloody fuck was that all about.

The coldness of the water did little to cool Draco's blushes as fragments of the dream came back to taunt his waking moments. Groaning into his hands he remembered with humiliation that his erotic dream had in fact involved very little 'erotic' behaviour. No sweaty bodies grinding against each other, only tender touches, gentle kisses and sweet words whispered.

Quite simply put, Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Ice Prince had come in his pants at the thought of being held and loved by the Gryffindor Golden Boy.

As he stepped out of the ice cold shower, Draco realised the it had not had the effect he had desired and that replaying flashes of the dream had in fact left him with another raging hard on.

As he wrapped his long fingers around the shaft of his now throbbing cock, only one thought passed through his head.

'I'm fucked'


	2. The Harsh Light Of Day

The glaring summer sunshine forced it's way through the threadbare curtains and reflected off the bright orange of the rooms walls. Only one of the two beds were occupied and it was only a telltale hump in the bedclothes that gave tell of it's occupant.

Buried deep in the warmth of his bed Harry Potter squeezed his eyes shut tight against the harsh light of day that mercilessly forced its way into his consciousness. He could hear the voices of his friends drifting up the stairs, though not as loud or as cheerful as they once were he thought bitterly.

A sharp tapping sounded at the window and the covers were quickly pulled back as Harry stumbled to the window. As soon as he pulled the curtains apart and took in the face of the tawny owl perched on the sill he felt his heart sink slightly. For a fraction of a moment he had expected to see Hedwigs snowy form and then it had all come flooding back to him. He staggered back slightly under the weight of his memories and only the impatient tap of the feathered visitor brought him back to his present surroundings.

Reaching out a slightly shaking hand to retrieve the attached parchment he was rewarded with a sharp nip to his fingers. His bloodshot eyes took in the Hogwarts seal and he felt the usual surge of warmth at the though of his first real home. But other thoughts followed swiftly, memories of the last time he had seen the castle and the feeling was quickly dispelled.

Harry shook his head determinedly trying to clear his thoughts, only to wince at the pain that shot through him at this action. The fire whiskey had seemed like a good idea when Ron had suggested it the night before but, as Harry now ruefully admitted to himself, he was paying the price for those few blissful hours of oblivion.

Tossing the parchment on his unmade bed he stumbled to the bathroom. Fumbling to remove his pyjamas, he stepped into the shower and wallowed in the feel of the cool water running down his tired body.

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist Harry stood in front of the mirror and steeled himself to look at his reflection. His dark hair, though wet, still stuck up all over. His skin had a greyish tinge that not even his summer tan could hide. What Harry noticed most though were his eyes, surrounded as they were by dark shadows, rimmed with red and bloodshot. Splashing cold water onto his face he reached for his wand which was never far from his side nowadays. He cast a quick glamour over his features and smiled a tight smile as he re examined his face and saw all signs of his exhaustion removed. He could only hope that no one would look too closely though because not even magic could put the life back into his once bright green eyes.

As he made his way back to the room he shared with Ron he kept his eyes downcast and didn't notice the redhead walking his way until he felt her hands on his bare skin. Flinching slightly at the unexpected contact he looked up in surprise into the concerned eyes of Ginny Weasley.

"Oh Harry, you're up!" she exclaimed, somewhat stating the obvious.

"Mum sent me up to get you for breakfast, she's worried you're getting too thin"

She ran an appraising eye over Harrys half naked body at this before continuing.

"And she thought you might need this, Ron's had two already."

She pressed a small glass vial into his hand,"hangover potion" she answered at the questioning look he gave her.

Harry smiled ruefully

"Thanks. I'll be down in a minute Gin, i just need to get dressed first"

He saw Ginny's eyes sweep over his bare torso and noticed that her hand was still clasping his shoulder . Stepping back to end the contact Harry took in the brief flash of confusion in her eyes.

"If Ron's down there already, you had better go save me some food," he forced out trying to end the awkward moment and sound normal.

Another tight smile in her direction and Harry was back in his room. He leaned back against the door, a slight feel of panic taking over him. His hand shook as he raised the potion to his lips and drained it feeling the throbbing in his head lessen although the knot in the pit of his stomach remained.

Pulling on a pair of baggy jeans (Dudley's cast offs) and an old Quidditch jersey of Ron's he headed out of the room and slowly padded down the stairs.


	3. What Your Father Would Want

"I said no Mother, I won't do it!"

Draco span round, his features twisted into an angry mask. His glare faded slightly when his cold grey eyes came to rest on the serene face of his Mother.

Narcissa smiled softly and placed a calming hand on her sons shoulder.

"It's what your Father would want you to do."

If Narcissa thought to persuade her son with this statement, Draco's next words quickly dispelled that notion.

"Yes, well you will have to forgive me if that is not quite the motivator it once was. I am still a little busy dealing with the fallout of the last thing he wanted me to do!"

A sharp slap echoed through the stately drawing room of Malfoy Manor. Draco stood shocked with one hand pressed to his flushed cheek and his eyes fixed by the steely gaze of his mother.

"You will not speak of your father in that manner and you will do as I ask. This is not up for discussion Draco. You have a duty to restore the honour of the Malfoy name and you cannot do this by hiding behind the walls of the Manor."

"But Mother!"

"No Draco, this discussion is closed and I want to hear nothing further on the matter. I will reply to this letter and confirm that you will be attending. Let that be an end to it."

Narcissa turned from her son and moved gracefully across the room before seating herself at an elegant writing desk.

Draco watched in horror as his Mothers quill moved swiftly across the parchment. He felt a tight knot twist in his stomach and it took all of his self control not to beg her to reconsider.

Truth be told Draco Malfoy was scared and more than a little confused. In the weeks that had passed since the defeat of Voldemort all of his attention had been focused on his Fathers trial and on staying out of Azkaban himself. He had given little thought to his future mainly, as he now admitted to himself, because it had been a long time since he thought of himself as having one. But he was fairly certain that if he had entertained such thoughts, returning to school would not have been amongst them.

Draco felt a slight shudder pass through his body at the thought of Hogwarts. It wasn't the fairly recent memory of the final battle that elicited this reaction. Whenever Draco thought of Hogwarts (which would be never if he had his way) his overriding memory was of that night in the astronomy tower and of seeing Dumbledore's broken body as he had fled the grounds.

And this was where his overwhelming confusion sprang from. Why would he be asked to return to the 'scene of the crime' as it were? Yes he had escaped prosecution for his actions but he had still let death eaters into the school. Even if he was not directly responsible for firing the curse that killed him he was certainly the reason that the old wizard had died that night.

Narcissa signed her name with a flourish, blotted the ink and then firmly attached the parchment to the leg of the owl that had patiently waited all this time.

Draco felt the bile rise in his throat as the owl took flight and with it taking his sealed fate.His hand gripped the back of the nearest chair for support, his knuckles turning white as his mother turned to him.

"You will need to go into Diagon Alley soon to purchase your supplies. You will have to take the key to our vault as I will obviously not be able to accompany you."

The thought of leaving the safety of the manor and exposing himself to what he could only imagine was a hostile wizarding world left Draco feeling he might vomit at any moment. Yet he remained silent only nodding at his mother's words.

Narcissa saw the flash of fear in her son's eyes and took pity on him.

"You will not be expected to go alone however. I floo called Aurora Zabini this morning and she has confirmed that Blaise will be returning also. She will be taking him for his supplies on Friday and has said she is happy for you to accompany them."

Draco visibly relaxed at this information. But it would still be the first time he had left the safety of his ancestral home in over a month with the exception of a few brief visits to Pansy in St Mungo's. With his Father in Azkaban and his Mother under house arrest pending the outcome of an investigation into her wartime activities Draco had become a virtual recluse.

The thought of seeing Blaise again caught his attention. He had been very close to the Italian boy when they were younger and this had continued through their earlier years at school. But Draco's mission in their 6th year and the fact that Blaise had spent the last year on the continent had caused the friendship to cool.

Draco remembered with a smirk a couple of encounters between them that had certainly been about more than just friendship. Blaise also had an interest in the same sex and had been only too happy to help his friend explore his newly discovered sexuality.

Yes, thought Draco, seeing Blaise again could be just the thing he needed to get his mind of Harry Bloody Potter.

"It will be ok Dragon, you know that don't you?"

The sound of his mother's voice startled Draco from some very pleasant memories and brought back the knot in his stomach as he recalled what they had been discussing. He raised his clouded eyes to meet his mother's bright blue irises.

"I won't pretend that I am happy with this Mother. You know me well enough to know that I won't hide my feelings on the subject. But if this is what you truly wish then I will do what you ask. Though I fail to see how this will in anyway restore pride to the Malfoy name."

Narcissa smiled kindly at her son realising how difficult this was for him. She leaned forward and gave him a light kiss on his still rosy cheek.

"I'm sorry about that."

Draco shook his head and returned her smile.

"It's ok mother, I shouldn't have said what I did about father and I apologise for that."

He hung his head avoiding his mothers gaze.

"May I be excused? I have some reading I should catch up on if I am to avoid disgracing myself at school."

Narcissa nodded her permission and Draco took his leave and returned to his room, his head spinning slightly.


	4. Knee Jerk Reaction

Harry's eyes were fixed on the table in front of him as he tried desperately to avoid the penetrating stare that was currently burning a hole in the top of his head.

"Mr Potter!"

Harry wore a mulish look on his face but made no attempt to reply. Inside he was angry, furious even and he was struggling to reign in his temper. Just lately it seemed easily provoked and Harry did not want to unleash it on those close to him.

He had had no peace since those blasted Hogwarts letters arrived. When he had calmly declared his intention of not returning you would have though he declared a desire to become the next Dark Lord! He wasn't thinking straight apparently, he was confused and didn't know what he was saying.

For 3 days straight the Weasley's (and Hermione intermittently) had worked on him. Alternating between calm understanding, relentless nagging and on Ron's part – outright anger! All to no avail as on this issue Harry would not be moved.

Finally in desperation Molly Weasley had called in the 'big guns'. This was why Harry now found himself seated across the kitchen table from a determined looking Minerva McGonagall.

"Tell me Harry" she asked gently.

"What will you do instead? I though you wished to become an Auror but you must know you cannot do that without completing your schooling?"

It was all Harry could do to manage a shrug at this question. In truth he had no clue what he wanted to do. The decision not to return to school had been a knee jerk reaction to the shock he had felt on receipt of the letter. Left to his own devices Harry was sure he would have reversed it by now. But something in the way everyone had been so quick to condemn his choice had made him dig his heels in.

Without looking up he spoke bitterly.

"How is it Professor that I could be trusted with the fate of the Wizarding world but that I am considered incapable of knowing what is best for me?"

He heard a gasp and saw Hermione staring wide eyed in shock at him. Mr Weasley stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder."Harry we're not trying to suggest that you are incapable in anyway. It's just that you have been through so much recently and forced to grow up so quickly. We just want you to have the chance to enjoy being young."

Looking round the table he struggled to suppress a guilty stab that shot through him as he took in the concerned faces of Mr & Mrs Weasley. He knew that they only wanted what was best for him but Harry felt like he had lived his entire life for other people and he was determined to live according to his own wants now. Problem was he didn't really know what he wanted.

Harry realised that his Professor was speaking to him so he turned his eyes to her and listened.

"Harry, I realise that this last year has been very difficult for you. But you have to move forward and I believe returning to school will help you do this. We've had a very promising response from your classmates so far, some from most surprising quarters."

This caught Harry's attention:

"Slytherin's?" he questioned.

McGonagall nodded apprehensively, not sure if this news would firm Harry's resolve to stay away.

A sudden thought struck Harry and it escaped his lips before he had time to process it fully.

"What about Malfoy? Will he be allowed to return?"

Seeing his teacher's hesitation he gave a bitter chuckle.

"Don't worry I'm not after revenge or anything."

Then after a moment's reflection he added

"Besides, I think Malfoy has already paid a high price for his 'crimes'

Professor McGonagall looked thoughtfully at Harry for a moment before speaking.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy will be returning. I received an Owl from his mother yesterday."

Harry nodded and slowly pushed his chair away from the table. Making eye contact with his teacher, he held out his hand.

"Thank you for coming to see me Professor but if you will excuse me I need some time to think this over. I promise you I will let you know as soon as I have reached a decision"Harry retreated upstairs to his room. As he was walking across the landing he noticed that the door to George's room was open and he could see the red haired boy sitting on his bed with his head in his hands.

He gave a gentle tap to the door and entered slowly. George looked up and gave Harry a small smile.

"Alright mate? Are they still going on at you about school?"

Harry nodded and gave him a wry grin.

"Everyone cares so much about what I do next but I just can't seem to care myself."

George nodded in agreement,

"Hey, if you do decide not to go back you could always come and help me out in the shop. Although I reckon mum will have a fit at me encouraging you!"

"You're reopening the shop? That's good, right?"

"Yeah, I know it won't be easy but it won't get any easier the longer I put it off. I figured that it's what Fred would want, don't you think?"

George looked almost pleadingly at Harry as if begging him to tell him he was doing the right thing. Harry reached out and placed his hand on George's arm to reassure him.

"You know, I think it's exactly what he would want. He would want you to move on with your life."

Harry paused here before adding,

"Sorry that sounded so crap but you get what I mean don't you?"

"Yeah mate I know. It's hard for anyone to know what to say right now. Mum and Dad mean well you know? They just want what's best for you."

"I know, I've never doubted that. It's just that after this last year I can't imagine going back to school and taking lessons like nothing has happened. And it's Hogwarts! I always thought of that place as home, felt safe there and now everything's fucked up. All my life I've been different, special and not always in a good way. Now it's all over I just want to be normal, to be able to get on with my life without everyone wanting something from me. I just don't see how that can happen if I go back there. I don't know if I can take the stares and the gossip anymore."

Harry looked at George and let out a deep sigh

"Sorry got a bit deep on you there for a moment!"

George wrapped an arm around his friend and pulled him into a hug.

"It's ok Harry. It's perfectly normal to feel that way, though I hate to be the one to break it to you but I doubt very much if your adoring public will be leaving you alone anytime soon. You'd probably be better off at Hogwarts, at least McGonagall will keep the worst of the vultures away!"

Harry pulled back from the embrace and smiled at the red head.

"Thanks George, you know just how to make me feel better !!"

George laughed at that and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Anytime mate. Next time you feel like crap you know where to come!"

He paused here and looked speculatively at the dark haired boy

"So you're gonna go back then ?"

"You know, I think I am!"

George pulled him into another quick hug

"Good on you. Now you best go and put Mum out of her misery!"

Harry laughed again and stood to walk to the door still able to feel the warmth of Georges arms round him. He stopped at the door and turned round

"Thanks for that, it helped! Sorry to dump my problems on you"

He ducked quickly to avoid a pair of balled up socks that were thrown in his direction.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just glad I could help." George replied sincerely.


	5. Back Out Into The World

Draco woke for the 7th morning in a row with fresh memories of messy black hair and green eyes. He looked down his pyjama clad body to his obvious arousal and let a small smile play at the edges of his mouth.

He was no longer freaked out by his night time encounters with The Boy Who Lived. The way Draco saw it was that he

couldn't do anything to stop them and he obviously enjoyed them – if the state of his pyjamas were anything to go by - so why not go with it!

And whatever else he thought of Potter; he had to admit to himself (albeit reluctantly) that he was not bad looking, plus he had just saved all their arses from an evil megalomaniac – what bigger aphrodisiac was there than that? If there was one thing that turned a Malfoy on it was power and that was something Potter had in spades.

Draco slid his hand under the sheets and was just slipping it inside the waistband of his pyjamas pants when a loud crack echoed through the room. As he looked round scowling he spotted a nervous house elf staring at him from fearful big eyes.

"Begging your pardon, Master Draco but the Mistress insisted I wake you immediately. She says to tell you that you must be ready to leave in an hour."

Draco gave the elf a curt nod as he felt his arousal flag, "Tell mother I will be down shortly."

When the elf showed no signs of leaving but just stood there shaking slightly Draco softened his expression.

"That will be all thank you, Tilly."

The small creature let out a squeak at being addressed in such civil tones by the proud Malfoy heir and promptly vanished.

Sighing to himself Draco made his way into the bathroom and slowly peeled off his clothes. As he stepped into the shower he allowed himself to replay his favourite Potter fantasies and was promptly rewarded by the stiffening of his cock.

Bracing one arm against the wall of the shower he slowly snaked his other hand down his body teasing his nipples on the way. He finally wrapped his hand firmly around his hard length and began to stroke leisurely feeling shivers of pleasure shoot through his body. Thoughts of Potters fleshy lips wrapped around the head of his cock had Draco fisting his shaft faster and in a very short time he was shooting his cum onto the floor of the shower and biting his bottom lip hard to keep from crying out a certain raven haired boy's name.

A short time later and Draco made his way downstairs to greet his guests. He had purposely avoided breakfast that morning as he doubted very much whether he would be able to keep anything down. The thought of leaving the safety of the Manor was still terrifying to him, though not even a crucio would prise this confession from his lips.

"Good morning mother"

He smiled and kissed her cheek.

"Good morning, Dragon. I was beginning to despair of you getting out of bed. The sooner you are back at school the better, then all this lazing around will be at an end."

Draco only smiled in return and chose not to respond to this statement. He didn't think his mother would want to know that the reason for Draco's tardiness was that he had been wanking to thoughts of Harry Potter!

"You look lovely today, Draco. It's good to see that you are taking an interest in you appearance again. "

Draco smirked; he knew his mother was telling the truth and that he did look exceptionally well. He had taken special care when choosing his outfit that morning. After all he had to show Blaise what he had been missing for the last year and also what he could be having again if he played his cards right. Somewhere at the back of Draco's head a small voice was telling him that it also wouldn't hurt for him to look hot in case he ran into Potter in Diagon Alley but as comfortable as Draco was with the fantasies, he wasn't ready to acknowledge that voice yet.

His black dress trousers were cut just right to show off his long lean legs and his toned arse. The blue of his jumper was just the right shade to make his grey eyes gleam almost silver in the sunshine. Plus the way it clung to his torso gave tell to anyone who cared to look of the body beneath. He had left his hair loose and it now framed the sides of his face like curtains of silk making him look almost angelic to those who did not know him better!

Draco's moment of reflection was brought to an end by the arrival of the Zabini's who flooed in at that very moment. Aurora Zabini was a fine looking woman and it was easy to see where her son had inherited his sultry looks from. She eased out of the fireplace and made her way across the room to where they were standing.

"Narcissa darling, you are looking lovely as ever!"

She kissed her friend on both cheeks before turning her attention to Draco. She ran an appraising eye over his body before looking him in the eye.

"And you have certainly grown up to be fine looking young man. The girls at Hogwarts had better watch out this year with you and Blaise on the prowl."

She gave him a cheeky wink and Draco had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at her attempt to ignore both his and her son's sexuality. Certainly the girls at school would have to watch out but only because he and Blaise would be after all the good looking guys for themselves.

He stepped forward smiling and kissed a greeting to her cheeks.

"Mrs Zabini, it is a pleasure to see you again, it has been far too long. Thank you for allowing me to accompany you today."

With this Draco turned his attention to the dark haired boy stood patiently waiting beside his mother. Resisting the temptation to kiss him a greeting also Draco made do with a warm handshake.

"Blaise, it's great to see you again. How've you been? You're certainly looking good."

Draco gave his friend a slight smirk which allowed him to understand the hidden subtext behind this statement. And judging from the look in the Italian boys eyes it was certainly a mutual sentiment.

Blaise, having spent the last year in Italy, was far more continental in his greeting. He took Draco's outstretched hand and pulled him into a brief embrace, placing a kiss to each cheek. It raised no eyebrows from their mothers who were now lost in deep conversation but Draco couldn't help but notice how his friends soft lips lingered slightly longer than necessary on each of his cheeks. With his senses still heighted from his morning activities it was all Draco could do not to drag him upstairs and pound him into the mattress right then.

When they pulled back from the embrace Blaise arched one eyebrow at his blonde friend obviously reading the arousal in his eyes. Before anything further could be said or done between them Draco realised that his mother was addressing him.

"Take this Dragon. You will need to access the family vault before you do your shopping."

She pressed a small gold key into his palm and curled his fingers round it tightly. Draco nodded his acceptance and tucked the key into his pocket.

He made his way to the fire place and after throwing in a handful of Floo powder called 'Diagon Alley' and was gone.

Narcissa turned to Aurora as Blaise followed Draco into the fire place.

"Thank you for doing this. I wish that I could accompany him myself but thanks to the delays at the ministry I am still under investigation. He won't admit it for anything but he is terrified to be going back out into the world. He has barely left his room since the end of the war let alone left the Manor."

Aurora reached out and pressed her friend's hand.

"Don't mention it, Cissa, Draco is such a polite young man that he is a pleasure to be around. Blaise missed him desperately this last year and it will do them both good to get reacquainted before school starts."

The two women kissed their farewells and Narcissa watched with a heavy heart as her friend followed the two boys. She had felt cruel for insisting that Draco face the Wizarding public alone, knowing that as the only available Malfoy at the moment he would bear the brunt of peoples wrath towards his parents. However it had to be done, bridges needed to be rebuilt and pride regained. As the only family member to come out of the war with his freedom and his life intact, the responsibility for this would have to fall on Draco's shoulders.

Draco stepped out of the fire place in the Leaky Cauldron and cast a quick glance around the room. He wasn't sure if he actually expected some disgruntled Wizard to attack him but he figured it was always best to be on the alert. Blaise followed shortly after and then the two boys waited patiently for Aurora whilst trying their best to remain inconspicuous.

Mrs Zabini felt no such compunction however. She exited the fire place with a flourish and her clear tones called to the boys and in turned dragged the attention of every patron to their small group. Draco kept his eyes firmly fixed on his companions, having no desire to see people's reactions to him this early on in the outing. Exchanging a friendly greeting with Tom the barman, Aurora led them out into the yard and from there into Diagon Alley.

Draco let out a breath that he had been unconsciously as the street appeared before his eyes. It had been two years since he had last been here and his head span at even trying to comprehend all that had happened since that time.

They headed towards Gringotts first of all as Draco needed to visit the family vault. Ignoring the disapproving stares of several Goblins, they entered and Draco joined what looked to be the shortest queue. So keen was he on avoiding eye contact that he didn't notice the messy raven coloured hair of the person in front until it was too late for him to avoid the confrontation.

When the blonde teen heard Harry Potter give his name to the stern looking Goblin he felt a grip of terror seize him. Less than two hours earlier Draco had had a very satisfying wank to the image of this boy sucking his cock and now here he was only inches away from him. Not only this but Potter was the saviour of the Wizarding world and he, Draco, had been on the wrong side of the battle. There was no way to avoid contact of some kind and as polished a Wizard as he was, Draco had no idea how to handle the situation.

He noted with surprise the less than courteous manner in which the Goblin spoke to Potter. But then he remembered with a wry grin that the last time the boy had been in the bank was probably whilst breaking into the Lestrange vault and blasting his way out on the back of a dragon. At the thought of these heroics Draco felt a slight tightening in his groin. Cursing silently he shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. But before he could think any further he heard his name being called and as he slowly raised his gaze he found himself drawn to a familiar pair of green eyes.

"Malfoy"

Potter acknowledged him with a slight nod and Draco let out a silent thank you that he had not punched him.

"Potter"

A nod in return and Draco fought hard to keep the sneer out of his tone and off his lips. Not that he was bothered what Potter thought of him, oh no. But he charged by his mother with the task of restoring pride and respect to the Malfoy name and he guessed that pissing of 'The Chosen One' was not the best way to go about it. Draco was drawn from his musing by the realisation that not only had Potter not thumped him but that he was actually making conversation.

"Professor McGonagall tells me you are coming back to Hogwarts, I have to say I was surprised when I heard that, Malfoy."

Draco bit back the angry retort that was on the tip of his tongue but before he could formulate a more civilised response his rival (?) was speaking again.

"Not that I'm saying you shouldn't, I just figured you wouldn't want to."

Potter bit nervously on his bottom lip, his eyes full of sincerity that confused the crap out of Draco.

"Yes, well believe me, Potter it was not my decision. I had no intention of returning, my mother had other ideas however."

Potter let out a sympathetic chuckle at this.

"Hmm, I had much the same problem with Mrs Weasley!"

Neither boy seemed aware of the attention they had drawn by this brief exchange nor did they notice this ever increasingly impatient Goblin. They were brought back to their surroundings by the arrival of Blaise at their side who had noticed their meeting and hastened to Draco's side in order to defend his friend if necessary.

The blonde boy smiled at his darker friend and indicated imperceptibly that no assistance was required. Remembering his manners he turned to present his friend to Potter but there was no green eyed boy behind him any longer and all he saw was a brief glimpse of his fantasy leaving the building swiftly.

Blaise raised his eyebrow but seeing the look in his friends eyes he simply motioned to the waiting Goblin.


	6. Perfectly Civil

After leaving Gringotts, Harry made his way with all speed in the direction of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. The conversation with Malfoy had left him feeling more than a little confused. That they had managed to hold a civilised, albeit brief, conversation, struck him as a little more than bizarre. It was the first time that Harry had laid eyes on the blond boy since the final battle when they had been on opposing sides of the war.

He had to admit to thinking about Malfoy quite a bit over the last few days, ever since McGonagall had said he would be returning to Hogwarts. Harry had been trying to prepare himself for his first peace-time encounter with the boy, wondering how they would react to each other now that the fighting was done.

Harry had long since let go of his hatred for his one time rival, ever since he had seen visions of what he had undergone at Voldemort's hand. Not that Malfoy was innocent by any means, but Harry understood that there was more to his nemesis than just a two dimensional villain. Although he hadn't attempted to persuade Ron, or even Hermione, of this fact yet.

George was watching out of the door for his arrival and seeing this, Harry quickened his pace with a genuine smile on his face. A bell tinkled as the redhead exited his shop and walked to meet Harry.

"I thought we could go for a drink and some lunch," he stated.

Looking at his watch, Harry laughed at his friend. "It's 11 o'clock, George!"

"Well, that's as good a time as any. Come on!" With that, he tugged on Harry sleeve and pulled him in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry looked up as George dumped two butterbeers on the table between them. "So how's everything going with the shop?"

George took a sip from his bottle and shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, it's not easy. I keep expecting to see... well, you know."

He tailed off and took another deep gulp of his drink. Harry reached over the table and covered the pale freckled hand with his own tanned one. Unable to think of anything helpful or appropriate to say, he just settled for giving his friend's hand a gentle squeeze and was rewarded by a weak smile.

"I knew it wasn't going to be easy but I guess the reality is so much harder. It's not too bad in the day as the shop keeps me busy. But being in that flat on my own gives me too much time to think, and there is so much there to remind me of what I've lost."

Unable to offer comforting words, Harry did the next best thing he could think of.

"How about if I stopped over tonight? You could use the company and God knows, as much as I love your family, I could do with a little space."

Seeing the look on George's face he added quickly, "I'm quite happy sleeping on the sofa. You're looking at a boy who slept in a cupboard for 11 years!"

George nodded gratefully, relieved that Harry had understood his concern without him actually having to voice it.

"Thanks, mate, that would be great. Maybe we could go out or something? I'm sure we could both stand to unwind a little. Sorry about the sofa, I know it's stupid but it would just feel wrong somehow."

Harry smiled and pressed his hand again. "You can stop with the puppy dog eyes now, George. It's not stupid and there's nothing to apologise for. Maybe we could try going into Muggle London? At least that way we will be left alone."

Harry and George were on their third butterbeer by the time Ron and Hermione came over to meet them. The frizzy-haired witch smiled at her two friends, but the younger redheaded boy looked too choked with rage to speak.

George turned an amused face to his younger brother. "What's up Ronniekins? You seem a little tense."

Harry suppressed a snigger at this understatement, but a glare from Ron indicated he had not been as discreet as he thought.

"Malfoy," Ron spat out.

He opened his mouth again to continue on a rant but Hermione placed a calming hand on his arm and pulled him into a seat.

"We just saw him in Flourish & Blott's," she offered by way of an explanation.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Ron burst out, "Can you believe it, Harry, McGonagall is letting that bastard back into Hogwarts. After everything he did!"

Harry met his angry friend's indignant stare and nodded slowly.

"Yeah, she did mention something about it the other day when she came round to the Burrow. She said there were quite a few Slytherins coming back, in fact."

Ron spluttered at this and Hermione looked at Harry with surprise. George however, was leaning back in his seat, smirking wildly as he waited for fireworks.

"You knew? And you didn't think to mention it? McGonagall must be bonkers to let murdering scum like him back in."

Harry let out a sigh; he had really wanted to avoid having this conversation with Ron. It stuck in his throat that he was about to defend his rival, but he figured if he didn't do this now it was going to be a long year.

"C'mon, Ron, he's not a murderer and you know it. He wasn't even charged at the end of the war, never mind convicted of anything."

Seeing the horror and outrage in his friend's eyes, Harry continued quickly.

"Yes I know he was a complete bastard at school and I'm not saying he isn't still one. But the war changed a lot of people, Ron, and I'm just saying he may be one of them. I bumped into him in Gringotts earlier and he was surprisingly civil. It's not like I want to be friends with him, it's just I want one year at school where no one is trying to kill me and I don't have to spend every spare moment obsessing about what Draco bloody Malfoy is going to do or say to us next."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully at this, "You may have a point Harry. Obviously we can't be friends with him, but it would certainly benefit us all if we could reach some kind of ceasefire. Besides, I would think most of the returning Slytherins will keep a fairly low profile after last year. Some of the other students will have long memories and I imagine there will be quite a few out for revenge if they can get it."

"Bloody good job if you ask me. It's about time those evil snakes got what was coming to them," Ron ranted.

George stood up at this point to inquire if anyone wanted another drink, Harry accepted with relief. Hermione dragged Ron to his feet and explained they still had shopping to do. Harry, in turn, explained to them that he would be stopping at George's flat that night instead of returning to the Burrow, and that he would see them the next day. As he watched them leave the pub he could distinctly make out the words 'bloody Malfoy' and saw Hermione give Ron a disapproving slap on the arm.

Chuckling to himself, Harry turned back to George, who had by now returned from the bar with replacement drinks.

"Thank God for that," Harry sighed. "I thought that was going to get messy there for a minute. I'm sure I'll still catch it tomorrow when I get back. "

George sipped his drink thoughtfully. "Ron's never been one for calm reflection, but he'll calm down eventually."

Harry quirked an eyebrow in his companion's direction. "You have met your brother right? Red hair, freckles, temper like an active volcano?"

"Yeah well, you may have a point there, mate. Just as well you're not going back tonight, I reckon."

A short time later and the two friends went their separate ways, George back to his shop and Harry to brave the shops.

As he made his way towards Madam Malkin's, Harry kept his eyes open for any familiar faces and was soon rewarded by the sight of Seamus' grinning mug coming towards him.

"Harry, mate, how you doing?"

"Hey, Seamus! I'm not too bad, just trying to get myself sorted for school. I take it you're going back too?"

"Yep, sure am. Me mam would've made me even if I had said no. Besides, I spent most of last term shut up in the Room of Requirement, and even before that, those Carrows weren't exactly big on the learning, you know?"

Harry nodded, his grin fading slightly at the reminder of what his classmates had been forced to endure the previous year. The all too familiar prickle of guilt began to creep over him.

"I heard from Neville and he's coming back. I presume Dean will be?"

Seamus nodded at this, "Yeah, Dean's coming. He's around somewhere; I'm just giving him and Luna some time alone!"

Harry's eyebrows shot up at this piece of news. "Dean and Luna? Wow didn't see that one coming. Mind you, I suppose they did spend a lot of time together at Bill and Fleur's."

By now they had reached the door of Madam Malkin's and Harry made his farewells to the Irish boy.

"See you in a week's time, Harry. I can't wait to get back!"

Harry nodded and smiled. "Yeah, see you then," he said, though he was unable to echo his friend's eagerness to return.

Several hours later, a very stressed out 'Boy Who Lived' made his way back to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. George took one look at his face and sent him straight up to the flat with strict instructions to 'relax for Merlin's sake!'

...

Draco was relieved when they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, where they had purchased a rather proud looking tawny owl for Blaise. This was the last shop on Aurora Zabini's list, and shopping was all done. Draco reflected that it had been a relatively pleasant day all things considered. Even the run in with the Weasel and the Mud... Granger hadn't been too bad. The Weasel had made some fairly standard comment about Death Eater scum. Granger had been scolding him for it when Mrs Zabini had walked over and, placing a hand on Draco's back, had steered him away from the confrontation.

Then of course, there had been his meeting with Potter, which would no doubt add further fuel to Draco's nightly imaginings. That had been strange, Draco mused, and would bear further thought. However, right now he was due at St Mungo's to collect Pansy. So he took his leave of Blaise and his mother and stepped into the Leaky Cauldron's Floo.

Pansy Parkinson had been in St Mungo's since May, pretty much since the end of the war, when she had suffered a kind of breakdown. Pansy's parents, although purebloods, had never been supporters of Voldemort's methods. When her father had refused the invitation to become a Death Eater, her mother had been killed as a form of gentle persuasion.

Her father had then reluctantly taken the Dark Mark to protect his daughter, but he had no real heart for the killing. When the Slytherins had left Hogwarts on the eve of the final battle, Mr Parkinson had sought out his daughter and attempted to flee to safety with her. Unfortunately, they had been caught by several fellow Death Eaters, one of whom had then raped Pansy before killing her father as a traitor.

The breakdown that swiftly followed led to her admission to St Mungo's, where she had remained unconscious for several weeks. She had been undergoing intensive therapy (a Muggle idea they were trying out) along with several traditional wizarding remedies for her physical ailments. Finally, after nearly four months, they had deemed her fit to return home.

Draco had always been fond of Pansy despite her rather annoying whining and constant refusal to accept his homosexuality. They had been friends since childhood and when, on one of his visits, she had expressed fear about returning alone to her old home, Draco had immediately extended an indefinite invitation to Malfoy Manor.

This was why Draco now found himself making his way up to the fourth floor of the hospital to collect her. He found Pansy sitting nervously on a chair waiting for him when he arrived. He took in her appearance from a distance and barely recognised her from the girl he had grown up with. She had become very thin, her eyes were sunken and shadowed and her hair hung limp and lifeless. He could see, even at this distance, how nervy she had become. Draco was one of very few people whom she would allow to touch her. She stood up to greet him and allowed herself to be enveloped in a gentle hug.

"I thought you weren't coming," she whispered.

Draco pulled back from their embrace and smiled at the nervous girl. "Sorry, am I late? Blaise has spent the best part of the day dragging me round shops in Diagon Alley."

He then wrapped an arm round her thin frame before adding, "C'mon, let's get you home."

When they got back to the Manor, Narcissa took one look at Pansy before gently leading her upstairs with instructions for her to take a nice bath and then curl up in bed. Seeing the girl settled into her room, she then returned downstairs to her son.

Draco saw a familiar look in his mother's eyes and decided to kill the conversation off before it even started.

"For the last time, Mother, I am gay. I am not in love with Pansy, nor am I ever likely to be – she is just a very good friend. Now for the love of Merlin, will you just let it go?"

"Really, Draco, there is no need to be so dramatic. I am fully aware of your 'orientation' and I'm sorry if I have ever given you cause to think that I don't accept you. Now tell me how your day was?"

Draco smiled at his mother's swift change of topic but decided to let it go.

"It was not too bad, Mother. It was great to catch up with Blaise and I really didn't have any trouble at all. Though I did run into the Chosen One himself."

Narcissa gasped slightly, a sinking feeling taking hold in her stomach. "Please tell me you did not brawl with him like a common Muggle? Not again, Draco, not with Harry Potter!"

Draco sniffed at this and turned a patented Malfoy sneer onto her. "On the contrary, Mother, we were perfectly civil to each other."

Narcissa smiled warmly at her son on hearing this piece of information. "You are a very smart young man. Befriending Harry Potter would be one of the fastest ways to bring the prestige back to the Malfoy name."

Draco spluttered at this, "Hang on, Mother! All I said was that we were civil. I certainly have no intention of becoming friends with the git!"

Narcissa simply gave her son a knowing smile and made her way into the dining room. Draco suppressed a slight feeling of panic and followed on after his mother.

Harry smiled to himself as George wrapped an arm around his waist, to keep Harry steady, he explained. But Harry knew that really George was just as drunk as he was, and that gravity was becoming an issue for them both.

They had spent the evening in Muggle London which, to Harry's relief, had been completely free of the unwanted attention that he usually received when he ventured out.

It wasn't that Harry didn't appreciate people's gratitude, but it did get more than a little overwhelming at times. Lost in his thoughts, Harry stumbled slightly and George tightened the arm round his waist and snickered.

"You, my friend, are drunk. It's a good job I can handle my alcohol enough to look after you. We can't have the saviour of the Wizarding World wandering round Diagon Alley, drunk. People would take all sorts of advantage of you."

The slur of George's words belied his claim to sobriety. But curious stares from passersby, who whispered and pointed, did give some credence to George's words. Harry was relieved when they reached the door to the flat. He leaned against the wall whilst George fumbled with the key.

Harry went slowly up the stairs, George's hands placed firmly on his back propelling him forward. Once inside Harry headed automatically for the sofa and collapsed. Laughing at his friend, George disappeared into his bedroom and returned bearing a pair of very bright green pyjamas

"Here, you can have these!" He chucked them onto the sofa.

Harry took one look at them and clutched at his face in mock agony.

"Oh my eyes, my eyes!"

Slowly he peeped through his fingers and smiled sheepishly at George

"Sorry, mate, but only you would have clothes this bright!"

"Shut up and go to sleep you drunken fool."

George grinned and placed a small bottle on the table at the side of the sofa. Harry looked at him hopefully, "Hangover potion?"

George nodded and reached out a hand to ruffle Harry's hair."Now go to sleep. Mum will kill me if you go back tomorrow looking like shit."

Harry nodded at the truth in this statement. He stood up and began pulling his jumper off over his head and George's eyes lingered for just a moment on the smooth tanned skin of Harry's stomach. Then, shaking his head, he retreated to the safety of his room.

Harry wasn't sure how long he had been asleep. Though judging from how dark it still was; he figured it couldn't have been long.

Looking round nervously, it took a moment for him to recognise his surroundings. Then he heard the noise again coming from George's room. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he reached for his wand and quietly muttered, "_Lumos_ ."

In the soft glow Harry made his way to George's room. His hand hesitated on the door knob but a muffled cry from within had him through the door instantly.

What he had expected to find he couldn't quite say. But when his eyes took in George's shaking body, curled in on itself, and wracked with heartbreaking sobs, Harry was more shocked than he had ever been.

Without a though he swiftly made his way to the bed and sat at George's side. At the shift of weight on the mattress, George turned wide eyes to him in shock.

"Harry," he choked out.

Harry reached out his hand and placed it on George's shoulder, stroking gently.

"Shhh, it's ok," he murmured, not sure what else to say.

Before Harry had time to think further he found himself with an armful of sobbing redhead. He wrapped his arms tight round his friend, his fingers tracing circles on George's back. He fought to keep the tears from his own eyes as he rocked George slightly, trying to soothe the distressed man.

Harry wasn't sure how long they sat like that for but eventually George calmed himself. He pulled back slightly from Harry's embrace and looked into the green eyes of his friend.

"Sorry about that, must be the alcohol affecting me."

Harry shivered slightly, they were so close that he felt George's breath ghost across his face. Before he knew what he was doing he had reached out a hand and was wiping the tears of George's face with his thumb.

"You don't have anything to apologise for. I'm just glad I was here."

Blue eyes stared into green ones as their faces drew ever nearer.

"So am I, Harry," George whispered.

Harry thought he was dreaming when he first felt the brush of George's lips on his own. But the feel of hands running through his messy hair confirmed that it was real. He tensed in shock for a moment but relented when he felt his friend's tear stained face against his own.

It was just a kiss Harry rationalised; it wouldn't do any harm and if it made George feel better then he could do it. He deliberately ignored the quiet voice at the back of his mind that suggested the feel of another man's lips on his own was very pleasant. Nor did he pay any attention to the way his pyjama pants suddenly felt rather tight. He simply gave himself to George's embrace.

Overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through his body, Harry did not notice George's hands unbuttoning his top and was only vaguely aware of it being slid off his body.

Gentle hands pushed Harry down onto the mattress before caressing the smooth skin of his bare chest. He felt George's tongue run along his bottom lip, seeking entrance. Without hesitation, Harry parted his lips and revelled in the feel of George's tongue exploring his mouth.

Harry felt a moment of shock when he realised that George was now on top of him, settled between his open legs. Any fear he felt soon disappeared when George began to move. He could feel the hardness of his friend's erection pressing against his own and the feeling was so delicious that Harry arched his back slightly and let a groan escape his lips.

George's lips trailed down Harry's neck and he rocked his body against him. Harry bit down hard on his lip to prevent a whimper escaping them; he couldn't stop himself from grinding his hips against George though.

George laughed and crushed their lips together once more. He broke away shortly after and trailed his lips down Harry's chest, flicking his tongue over sensitive nipples. Harry gasped as he felt George graze his teeth over them, biting gently. At the same time, George rotated his hips forcefully against Harry's erection, causing even more glorious friction. They moved against each other again and again, their breath hot on each other's faces.

Finally, after several minutes of frantic thrusting; George lowered his head and, biting down on Harry's neck, he came hard. Harry's eyes widened as George slumped against him trying to regain his control. He felt the loss of friction keenly and was only too aware of his still-hard cock.

He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, that this had all been about George. He had just been helping his friend out; this didn't mean that he liked blokes or anything. Harry lay back against the pillows willing his rather painful erection to disappear.

Suddenly he felt George's weight shift off him. He turned his head and saw his friend lying on his side, smiling up at him. Harry opened his mouth to say something but before he could; George laid a finger on his lips.

"Shhh, just relax. Let me look after you now."

With that he hooked his fingers under the waistband of Harry's pyjamas and began to tug them down over his hips. George reached out and traced the tips of his fingers along Harry's shaft; his thumb rubbing precum down the length of his cock.

Harry closed his eyes tight and surrendered to the feeling as George's hand wrapped round his aching shaft and began to stroke firmly. Harry knew it wouldn't take much more to push him over the edge. George increased the pace of his strokes and with a quiet cry; Harry came hard, his cum covering his friend's hand and landing on his own heaving chest.

He felt a shift on the bed and turning to his side, he watched as George pulled his wand from under to pillows and cast a charm to clean them both up.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say now; he had never been in this situation with a girl, let alone another bloke. The haze of arousal that had clouded his brain had now cleared and he was painfully aware that he was lying virtually naked in bed with one of his closest male friends, and they had just got each other off.

He reached down and began to tug his pyjamas back up. That done, he turned nervously to George, unsure how to handle this new development. But before he could formulate the words, he felt George's lips on his again.

"You don't have to say anything, Harry. Let's just go to sleep."

With that, he wrapped an arm loosely round Harry's waist and closed his eyes. Harry lay staring at the ceiling for a short while longer before finally giving into temptation and burrowing down into the warmth at the side of George's body.


	7. The Morning After The Night Before

Harry woke alone the next morning. It took a full minute before his consciousness reminded him of whose bed he was in, and why.

Embarrassment flamed across his cheeks and he raised his hands to cover his eyes, as if to block out the memories. Holding his breath, Harry listened carefully for any sound that would indicate George's whereabouts. Finally, hearing a low hum of noise coming from beneath, Harry realised that George was already up and in the shop. And a further look at his watch showed him that he had slept quite late.

Stumbling from George's bed, Harry made his way into the living room and was relieved to find that the Hangover Potion was still sitting on the table at the side of the sofa. He drank it quickly and then headed off to the bathroom.

Although George had used a Cleaning Charm on them, Harry was sure that there was a faint smell of sex that still clung to him. The thought of returning to the Burrow, and having any of the Weasleys suspect what had passed between him and George, made Harry feel slightly sick.

He showered quickly, eager to be dressed and leave without bumping into George. He slipped out of the bathroom and his heart sank at the sight of the redhead standing smiling at him.

"Morning, Harry, how are you feeling?"

The blush returned to Harry's face and he struggled to look his friend in the eye.

"'M fine thanks," he mumbled.

George walked closer to him and Harry held his breath at the feel of a hand on his arm.

"Harry, you don't have to be embarrassed about last night. I won't say anything to anyone. There's nothing wrong with what we did, you know?"

Harry shrugged off George's touch and walked over towards the window.

"I was drunk, we both were."

George chuckled. "Yes we certainly were. But I would have still done it if I had been sober, and I think you would have too."

Harry snapped his head round to look at the redhead. "You make it sound like we're gay."

George laughed again but his tones were gentler when he spoke this time.

"Well, I am gay, Harry, and after last night I would say that you are too."

Harry spun round to face his friend, his face flushed with anger, and confusion evident in his green eyes.

"I'm not gay," he spat.

George raised an eyebrow at him before stepping closer.

"Oh really? So what was last night about, Harry? And don't give me that crap about being drunk. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't enjoy it. Tell me you don't like it when I do this."

George reached out a hand and caressed Harry's face, running a thumb across his bottom lip. Harry's eyes widened with something akin to fear, but he couldn't look away or move.

George snaked a hand slowly round Harry's waist and pulled him closer. Lowering his lips, he murmured, "You're not drunk now, Harry."

Then his lips crashed down onto Harry's in an intense kiss. His arms pulled Harry's body flush against his own as he forced his tongue into the velvet warmth of Harry's mouth.

As soon as it had begun, the kiss was over and George pulled away from Harry with a smirk on his face. He looked down at Harry's groin, at his obvious arousal.

"Now look me in the eye and tell me you didn't enjoy that."

Harry opened his lips to speak but found no words coming out. His head was spinning; George was right, he had enjoyed the kiss, just like he had enjoyed having his cock touched last night. Harry wanted to cry. Just when he thought his life was about to become simpler and carefree, this had to happen. He couldn't be gay – could he? What about Cho and Ginny? Did this mean he wanted George, or worse still, that George wanted him?

George watched the range of emotions play across his friend's face before taking pity on him.

"Stop panicking, Harry. It's not the end of the world, you know? You can be gay and happy."

"But I can't...I mean, I don't want…" Harry trailed off, unable to put his thoughts into words.

George patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. "Go home, Harry, you have a lot to think about. You don't owe me any explanations, but you do owe it to yourself to be honest."

Harry nodded at this gratefully before finally finding his tongue. "Are we OK though?"

George laughed again and ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "Of course, you idiot. Last night was great but don't over analyse it. You're like part of the family and I wouldn't want to mess that up with sex."

He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him gently towards the fireplace.

"Now go home! Mum will be sending a search party out for you soon, you know how she worries."

Draco woke up and could instantly tell that he was not alone in his bed. That confused him for a moment before he remembered Pansy creeping into his room in the middle of the night. She'd woken from a nightmare and had been scared. Draco had immediately allowed her into his bed and held her till she fell asleep.

He opened his eyes and saw a faint smirk on his friends face as she watched him.

"What are you grinning at, Parkinson?"

Pansy let out a small chuckle. "I see you're still quite the morning person, Draco. Did you sleep well? You certainly seemed to."

Draco felt a bolt of panic hit him as he took in her comment and the look on her face. When added together with the stickiness in his pyjama pants - it did not look good. Trying his best to appear calm, he sneered slightly at his bedfellow.

"I slept perfectly well, Pansy, thank you for asking. How about you?"

The grin was now wide across the girl's face. "Oh I slept fine, Draco, right up until you started dry humping my leg and calling me Harry! Care to elaborate?"

Draco flushed and struggled to come up with a plausible excuse; he could just try outright denial, but Pansy knew well enough when he was lying. He watched her now, grinning at him like a Cheshire cat and realised that he couldn't remember the last time he had seen a genuine smile on her face. Draco wanted her to keep smiling like that, even if it meant sharing with her the misery and humiliation of his Harry Potter obsession.

"IwasdreamingaboutHarryPotter," he blurted out.

Pansy bit back a laugh at this. "Sorry, Draco, I didn't quite catch that. Could you say it a little slower for me?"

"Fine," Draco snarled. "I was dreaming about Harry bloody Potter, OK? And what I was doing to your leg was nothing compared to what I was doing to him in my dream."

Draco allowed a small smile to cross his face as he remembered last night's dream. He and Potter had certainly progressed from the kissing and cuddling of the original dream. He felt Pansy stroking his hair and looked to find her smiling at him.

"Ah," she sighed. "My little Drakie is all grown up and in love with the big brave Gryffindor."

Draco batted her hand away impatiently. "I'll have you know that I am not in love, Parkinson. What I dream about doing to Potter has nothing to do with romantic attachment. It's about fucking, plain and simple."

"Oh, so that's why, when you were violating my leg, you used the words - and I quote, 'Oh God, Harry, I love you so much?"

Pansy sat back and let a giggle escape her lips at the look of horror that crossed Draco's face.

"You're lying, you bitch!"

"No, Drakie, I'm not. You really didn't know? I though you were just lying to me."

Draco buried his blond head under the covers and refused to come back out, or to speak. Pansy sat stroking his back for quite some time before a muffled voice could be heard.

"I'm in love with Potter, Pansy! What the bloody fuck am I going to do?"

"You're going to get him, Draco, that's what. All we need is a plan; how hard can it be, we are Slytherins after all."

Draco's mussed-up head appeared from underneath the blankets with a devious smirk on his face.

"Potter doesn't stand a chance!"


	8. Not So Bad After All

Draco had spent the last week doing some serious thinking and for once it was not about Harry Potter, at least not in that way. Whilst he had held out strongly against returning to school, now that he had agreed to it, he was determined to have the best year possible.

He was realistic enough to know that most of the returning Slytherins, himself especially, would not be welcomed back with open arms. The Weasel's reaction in Diagon Alley the week before would be just the tip of the iceberg. He decided that they needed to be prepared. He needed to make sure his friends understood what might happen and plan how they would react.

It was for this reason that Draco had gathered his friends to the Leaky Cauldron the night before they returned to Hogwarts. They had grouped together in Pansy & Millicent's room to discuss tactics over a bottle of Ogden's finest. Besides Pansy and Blaise, Draco had also enlisted Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott.

Draco tilted his head back and drained his glass of Firewhisky before sweeping his gaze over the assembled group.

"We need to be prepared! I know McGonagall invited us back, but I think we have to assume that a large number of the students won't want us there. As Slytherins, we were never going to be welcomed with open arms, but after what happened there last year..."

Draco ended there, but looked meaningfully at his companions. Blaise and Millicent looked on curiously; neither had been at Hogwarts for the last school year and their friends had only given them the barest outline of what had gone on.

Like Blaise, Millicent had spent most of the previous year in the relative safety of mainland Europe. She had initially returned to Hogwarts but, after only a very short time under the Carrow's reign of terror, her parents had swiftly removed her and fled. Her elder brother had refused to go with them and shortly after his 19th birthday he had taken the Dark Mark.

Draco looked round to make sure his companions all understood the implications of his words before continuing.

"I don't think it will be so bad for Blaise and Millie, but I suspect that just being a Slytherin will be enough provocation for some. The rest of us will be marked targets, children of Death Eaters."

He reached out and took hold of Pansy's shaking hand.

"Drakie, I'm scared. The things I did last year, how I acted – they'll be out for blood."

Her voice was barely above a whisper but none of her friends missed the fear in her voice. It was a measure of how close she and Draco were that he did not reprimand her for publicly using a pet name that he detested and only tolerated from her. He let go of her hand and placed his fingers under her chin, tilting her head so her eyes locked with his.

"No one will touch you or they will have me to deal with. We are Slytherins and we look after our own."

He then turned to the rest of the group.

"Pansy's right though; there are going to be plenty of people out for revenge and we can't fight them all. I'm not suggesting we hide but we do need to be careful and stick together at all times. We can't afford to be dragged into confrontations because they will be looking for any excuse to get to us."

He took another swig of Whisky before carrying on. "Pansy and I have discussed this already and we have both decided to resign from being prefects."

He held up a hand at this point to still the protests from the other three members of the group.

"It's the best thing to do. She and I will probably be top of most peoples' hit lists and I'd like to keep us as low key as possible. At least until we have a feel for how things are going to go. Besides, I'm going to have a very busy year, what with restoring pride to the Malfoy name and trying to salvage the reputation of Slytherin house."

Blaise let out a wry chuckle at this. "I don't think Slytherin had much of a reputation to salvage in the first place. You know all people ever remember is that You-Know-Who was in it."

"Voldemort," Draco snapped.

Blaise looked at his friend in confusion, seeking a reason for this sudden change of mood.

"His name was Voldemort; practice saying it as you will use that name from now on. There will be no more You-Know-Who and there will certainly be no more Dark Lord."This last was said with a pointed look in the direction of Theodore Nott, who flushed at the implication. Like Draco, Theodore was the son of a Death Eater and had been expected, from an early age, to follow in his father's footsteps.

Draco dropped the serious mask from his face and sighed.

"Look, guys, this could get messy and I just want to make sure we are all protected. We were never liked outside of our own house, but now these people hate and despise us and maybe some have good reason to. I'm not saying we have to run round acting like bloody Hufflepuffs, but I think we have to accept that we cannot carry on acting like we have for the last seven years, at least not in public at any rate."

Seeing his friends nod in acceptance, Draco felt the tension leave his body. He reached under Pansy's bed and produced another bottle of Ogden's.

"Right, that's the serious shit out of the way, now lets celebrate our last night of freedom for a while!"

Pansy smiled. "Yes, and maybe the others might have some suggestions for Operation: Get Potter!"

Draco snapped his head to look at the girl and a distinct growl could be heard. "Parkinson!"

Pansy looked horror stricken as she took in the look of fury on her friend's face. The other three were looking at Draco with complete confusion on their faces.

"So what was all that crap about keeping our heads down then, Draco? You don't think that going after bloody Saint Potter might just piss a few people off?"

Draco clenched his fists tightly at the tone in Theodore's voice. But before he could act or speak, Pansy took matters into her own hands. Sensing trouble brewing between two of her closest friends, she said the only thing she could think of to defuse the tension.

"Oh it's not like that, Theo. Draco doesn't want to hurt Potter. Well, I suppose he might, after all he is a little kinky. But what I mean is he likes Potter..."

Pansy's courage failed her at this point as she realised the enormity of what she had just done. The other three were all staring open-mouthed at Draco, whose face had flushed bright red, either from rage or humiliation – Pansy wasn't quite sure.

It all started with a chuckle from Blaise, but pretty soon all of Draco's friends were rolling on the floor, wetting themselves at his humiliation. Draco huffed as his so-called friends revelled in his misery, but eventually even he cracked a smile as he appreciated the irony of his situation. However, he was not going to let them off that lightly.

"You're all a bunch of fuckers," he growled, before standing and making his way to the door.

"Draco, we're only joking!"

"C'mon, mate, have another drink!"

"Drakie, I'm sorry. Don't be mad."

Pansy spoke this last as she turned pleading eyes to her best friend.

"Parkinson, you are drunk. Now get to bed or you won't be fit to be seen tomorrow. In fact, all of you get to bed; we have a big day tomorrow and we need to have our wits about us."

With that, he turned and left the room. Pansy heaved a small sigh of relief; most people would have missed the look in Draco's eye, or the slight shift of tone in his voice, but after 18 years of friendship, Pansy knew she had been forgiven. Not that she would get away with it though; Draco was probably plotting his revenge right at that moment. This thought made Pansy smile to herself. It was just like old times; maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

Harry had spent his last week at the Burrow in a constant state of fear and confusion. He'd been having dreams, and they weren't like the ones he used to get off Voldemort. Every morning for the last week he had woken up with sticky pyjamas and a raging hard on.

While he was awake all he could think about was that night with George, and what it had meant. Yet when he was asleep he didn't dream about George, well not much anyway. These dreams were filled with different faces. Some strangers, some familiar, but all were men. The cold fear that had entered his body upon waking in George's bed now had him in its icy grip.

He had slipped into a morning routine that had become achingly familiar. He would get up early before Ron was awake and slip down the hall to the bathroom. Once in the shower he would allow his hand to take hold of his hard cock and bring himself off. After he washed his cum down the drain hole of the shower, he would sink to the floor of the cubicle and let the water wash away his tears.

Harry hated himself, hated the fact that what made him cum so hard every morning was the thought of being touched, stroked, and fucked hard by other men.

He was using a Glamour on his face daily now. Harry knew that without it he looked like shit, and he didn't want to worry his friends or Mrs. Weasley any more than he had already done.

He wasn't sleeping properly, he couldn't concentrate, and he had no appetite. On top of this, he was being hunted by Ginny Weasley. Harry had hoped that she had given up on the idea of the two of them. It had been nearly four months since he had defeated Voldemort and she hadn't so much as mentioned it before now. But all of a sudden, with school looming, she had begun to pursue him with alarming determination.

Harry cared about Ginny, loved her even. But he knew now, more than ever before, that he was not in love with her. Harry had been so eager for love, having been starved of it for years, that he had confused his feelings for her. He loved her like a sister, but the thought of being with her in any other capacity made him feel slightly sick. Although, as Harry now admitted, this could simply be due to the fact that she was female.

He had tried to give her subtle hints and let her down gently, but she was persistent. Harry knew he was going to have to be brutally honest with her but he didn't know if he had the strength for the row that was bound to ensue.

On his last night at the Burrow he kept mainly to his room. Declining offers of company, he trudged to the bright-orange room and attempted to finish his packing. He had only been in the room a few minutes before he heard someone enter behind him.

"Harry," Ginny's voice purred.

His body tensed as her arms snaked round his waist.

"Ginny, what are you doing? What if Ron comes in?"

"It's okay; he's in my room with Hermione. Relax, no one's going to disturb us for ages."

Harry turned round to face the red-haired girl, his mind whirling as he tried desperately to think of what to say. As it turned out he needn't have worried; before he could open his mouth, her lips were on his kissing fiercely. Harry noticed with silent resignation that his 'chest monster', who would once have roared in approval at his, was noticeably silent.

It was only when he felt Ginny's hands fumbling with the buttons of his jeans that he got the courage to stop her. Taking hold of her hands in his, he pulled them away from his crotch and took a step back from her. She looked up at him, confusion evident in her eyes.

"What are you doing, Harry? I thought you wanted this, wanted me?"

Harry bit on his bottom lip and just stared at her, his lips unable to form the comforting words he wanted to say. As he watched, her lips curled into a sneer.

"Don't worry about it. You've just answered my question," she said, her voice thick with bitterness.

As she spun around to leave, Harry reached out to grab her wrist and pulled her back to face him. His heart sank as he saw the tears forming in her eyes. Again words failed him; Ginny was hurt and it was his fault. Her eyes narrowed into slits and her face flushed in anger.

"Don't touch me, Harry; I quite obviously repulse you."

With that she stormed from the room. Harry watched her leave with a heavy heart, but a small part of him felt nothing but relief that it was over so quickly.

Feeling weak and tired all at once, he slowly stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed wearing only his boxers. The last thing his eyes saw before he fell asleep was his trunk, packed ready for returning to Hogwarts the next day. Despite himself, Harry couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face at the thought that maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.


	9. This Isn't Over

Cold grey eyes stared, unseeing, out into the passing countryside. Draco absentmindedly ran his fingers through the long dark hair on Pansy's head, which was currently nestled in his lap. The compartment was silent; two hours into the journey and the five companions had barely uttered a word to each other. All of them lost in their own private thoughts and fears.

Draco had felt so confident the night before; surrounded by his friends and emboldened by Firewhisky, but the cold reality had been something different. He had told himself that he was prepared, that he didn't care what people said, but he could have kicked himself for being so naive.

From the minute he had led his friends on to Platform 9 ¾, he had known that he had made a mistake. The platform had been crowded, more so than usual, and nearly every person on it had turned to stare at them. It wasn't so much the insults that were thrown; it was the looks in people's eyes, the cold fury and hatred, that put fear into Draco's soul.

Despite this; they had kept their heads held high, their masks of indifference in place as their only defence against the hostile crowd. Even when a small boy had darted forward and spat in their direction, they had continued onto the train as if nothing had happened.

Draco had spotted Potter in the crowd and was inexplicably relieved to see that his eyes were void of animosity, his expression neutral. Unlike the Weasel, who was practically salivating like a rabid dog, his face red, his anger palpable. His eyes had locked with Potter's for a brief moment and he was amazed to see the dark haired boy incline his head to him slightly. Draco had had to look away quickly for fear of betraying himself.

Feeling Pansy shift in his lap, he lowered his eyes to look at her. She smiled up at him and reached a hand to brush his blond hair from his face.

"It will be ok, Drakie," she whispered.

His eyes fixed on hers, his face betraying no emotion.

"How do you know that?" he asked, trying hard to keep a sneer from his voice

"Because you said so," she replied simply.

Further down the train a pair of green eyes were also fixed on the window, seeing none of the countryside that passed by.

Harry was having a bad day; it had started out shit, and was just getting worse. Ginny had been the catalyst; she had been alternating between ignoring him and glaring at him since breakfast. The Weasleys had picked up on the tension and this had eventually led to a row between him and Ron, who had felt duty bound to take his sister's part.

Hermione had forced a truce between them but things were still a little raw. What had hurt Harry the most was Ron's accusation that he thought himself too good for the Weasleys, now that he was the 'Saviour of the Wizarding World.' This was unfair and untrue, but when Ron had an idea in his head, Harry knew there was no talking him round. It was like the incident with the Goblet of Fire all over again.

Ron and Hermione had gone off to do Head Boy & Girl stuff, and left Harry behind. Not that Harry was bitter about that. Truth be told, McGonagall had originally offered the position to Harry, but he had promptly declined. He just wanted to blend into the background this term – not draw extra attention to himself. He hoped with all his heart that Ron never found out about that though, as it would be just more fuel for his steadily increasing jealousy.

Harry pulled his eyes away from the window and took in the other occupants of the compartment. His eyes fell first on Neville, who was sitting opposite him. Even after several hours in his company, Harry couldn't help but still be amazed by the changes the past year had wrought in his, once timid, friend.

Neville had grown taller, he must be about 6 ft Harry thought, and he had lost weight too, leaving his body leaner almost athletic looking. His face was no longer round, and though not good looking in a conventional way, there was something about him that would make you look twice.

Harry mentally slapped himself at this point in his thoughts – had he just been checking out Neville? Was this how it was going to be from now on? Only seeing his friends that way. But then he reminded himself that he had not once looked at Ron that way since he had had these feelings, so maybe it would be ok.

Neville caught Harry's thoughtful gaze and smiled at him encouragingly.

People underestimated Neville Longbottom; they mistook his quiet and his nervousness for slow stupidity. But Neville wasn't either, he just liked to watch – and not in the peeping-tom sense. He just preferred to sit back and let others do the talking, while he would look, listen and see far more than anyone ever imagined themselves to be giving away.

Which was why, from the minute he had seen him on the platform, Neville had been watching Harry Potter with growing unease.

In his observations of his friend; Neville was more bothered about what he didn't see, rather than what he did. Sure, Harry walked and talked just like he always had, but the spark that had always made him stand out, that had drawn people to him, was missing. His eyes, once bright and filled with life, were now cold and empty. Neville thought to himself that if eyes really were the window to one's soul, then Harry Potter must have been given a Dementor's Kiss.

Harry was good though, Neville would give him that, he hid it extremely well. Although most people didn't look that closely at Harry, they saw the Chosen One, not the boy. And those closer to Harry who did know better? Well, Neville suspected that they simply chose not to look too closely, scared of what they would find, of the damage their expectations had done to him.

Seamus was looking at Harry too; and not, Neville noticed, in a concerned way. It was an appraising look, his eyes trailing up and down the dark-haired boy's body. Last year at school, Neville and Seamus had been the only two seventh year Gryffindors left. Alone in a dark dormitory, the two boys had got to know each other a little better than friends usually do. Neville liked Seamus, but he also knew what he was, and this was why Neville felt very protective of Harry after seeing the Irish boy leer at him. Seamus liked boys, hell, he liked girls too. Quite simply put – Seamus was a slut!

Dean was in the corner with Luna firmly in place on his lap. Their heads buried behind a copy of The Quibbler, whispering and laughing softly. Harry felt a pang as he saw their interlinked hands and the way Dean's other hand rested so comfortably on Luna's thigh. Not because he thought about Luna like that, or Dean for that matter. But just because they were so at ease with each other, and no one gave them a second look, cuddled up as they were. But how could Harry ever have that? How could he ever sit there curled up in another man's lap, holding hands and sharing soft, gentle, touches? Because even if he could get his head round his own sexuality, he just knew no one else would.

Unable to take it any longer, Harry stood abruptly and walked out of the compartment, muttering something about 'going for a walk'.

As Harry neared the end of the carriage he heard raised voices, well, one voice to be precise, and a familiar one at that. As he entered the passageway into the next carriage, he found an angry Ginny Weasley, pinning a terrified looking Pansy Parkinson, up against the wall.

"Don't think for a minute any of us have forgotten what you are, or what you did last year. You should have stayed in St Mungo's – you're not wanted here. And if you won't leave, then we will have to make you!"

Pansy, Harry noticed, seemed to shrink smaller at Ginny's words. She made no effort to fight back; physically or verbally, she just stood shaking, her eyes wide with fear.

Then Harry noticed that Ginny had reached for her wand.

"Ginny! No!" he shouted in shock.

Ginny spun round at this interruption, letting go of her prey in her surprise.

"Go away, Harry, this is nothing to do with you."

Harry came closer and placed what he hoped was a calming hand on her shoulder.

"You need to calm down before you do something you'll regret."

Ginny gave a hard laugh at this.

"Regret? You think I would regret hexing this piece of trash? I've thought about little else for the last four months. You don't know what she did last year, you weren't there. She's Death Eater scum!"

This last she spat at Pansy who, despite being released, was still pressed up against the wall, shaking in fear.

"You're right, I don't know what she did, Gin, but I know this is wrong. This isn't you."

"How can you defend her, Harry? You heard her in the Great Hall, she wanted to turn you over to Voldemort. When did you start consorting with the enemy?"

Harry felt something like disgust build inside him as he looked at Ginny's face, red with rage, and her mouth twisted with spite. And in that moment, Harry realised he didn't know the girl at all, or at least he didn't know the girl she had become. Unable to look at her any longer, he turned his attention to the other girl.

He watched as Pansy slid down the wall to the ground, where she curled in on herself, shaking. Crouching down at her side, he reached out a tentative hand. She flinched at first as his hand settled on her shoulder, and Harry heard a slight whimper.

"This isn't over, Parkinson," Ginny hissed, before storming off in a towering rage.

Harry focussed on the shaking girl in front of him.

"Are you ok?" he asked softly. "Sorry, that was a really dumb question. Look, how about I help you stand up and then I'll walk you back to your compartment?"

Pansy raised blue eyes to start into his green ones. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What for?" Harry asked, confused.

"For what I said that night, about handing you over to him."

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter, not anymore. He's dead, the war is over, and I refuse to allow my life to be affected by it anymore than I can help. Now come on, let's get you back to your friends."

Harry stood up at this and held out his hand to her.

Pansy looked up at him, eyes wide with shock and wonder. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because you're letting me," Harry answered with a small smile.

Pansy managed a tiny smile in return and, taking hold of Harry's hand, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. They walked together in silence down the train, both aware of the shocked looks that were sent in their direction.

As they neared the back of the train, a door burst open and a much panicked looking Draco Malfoy burst out. He took one look at Pansy's red eyes and still shaking hands, before pulling her into a tight hug.

"I'm going to kill you, Pansy. I fucking told you about going off alone; you know it's not safe. What happened to you? Who was it? – I'm going to fucking kill them!"

Pulling back from the embrace, Draco's eyes widened in horror as he saw a dark messy-haired, green-eyed boy, standing behind his friend.

"Pansy, what in the name of Merlin are you doing roaming around the train with Potter? Have you gone insane?"

"Its ok, Draco, I just got into a bit of an argument and he helped me out."

Harry shuffled uncomfortably and murmured. "I'd better be getting back."

Before he could turn to leave, Pansy placed her hand on his arm and caught his gaze.

"Thank you, Harry."

Harry nodded acknowledgement at her and walked back off down the train.

Pansy turned to Draco and smiled as she watched him stare in open-mouthed shock at the retreating boy. She placed her hand under his chin.

"Close your mouth, Draco, You're starting to drool."


	10. Going For A Walk

Harry lay wide-awake in his bed listening to the soft snores of his roommates. The other three boys had been asleep for sometime, but Harry could only toss and turn in a futile attempt to drift off.

Harry thought how strange it was not having Ron in the dormitory with him; but as Head Boy, Ron had been given his own room. He was worried that things were still strained between him and his friend. They had barely seen each other since boarding the train that morning, and then the conversation had been limited. Harry felt lost without Ron and Hermione; they had been close during their previous years at Hogwarts, but their shared experiences this last year had left thaem closer than ever, or so Harry had thought. However, he was starting to think that they were drifting apart. Now that his two friends were in a relationship, the dynamic of their group was changed forever. Not that Harry begrudged the other two their happiness – no one had been more pleased than he was when they finally got together. But he just couldn't escape the feeling that he was losing them.

He hadn't mentioned his run-in with Ginny to anyone. He was still having a hard time believing that she could behave like that, so full of hate. She had avoided him at the welcome feast, sat as far down the table away from him as she could, and Harry had felt relieved. Although he and Ginny weren't together now, he knew everyone (including Ginny) thought it was only a matter of time until they were back on again. After all, Harry had only broken up with her to protect her during the war. Therefore, now Voldemort was gone, there was nothing to keep them apart. Except that there was, and Harry was painfully aware of it.

A quick look at his watch told Harry it was nearly 1am and he still felt nowhere near ready to sleep. Kicking the covers from off of his body, he fished in his trunk, grabbing his invisibility cloak and the Marauders map. He couldn't sleep, and it was driving him crazy just lying there looking at the curtains on his bed - he was going to go for a walk.

He eased himself quietly out of the dormitory and down into the common room. Once he had passed through the portrait hole, he threw the cloak on over his head and extracted the map from his pocket.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

He felt a jolt of sadness run through him as he was hit by the realisation that this was his last link to his father. With the death of Remus in the final battle, the last of the Marauders had died, and with it, Harry's connection to his parents. This tattered piece of parchment, and the cloak, were all he had left now.

Before Harry could become lost in sad memories; he was jolted from his self-pity by a sight that caused his breath to catch in his throat. As his eyes travelled over the plan of Hogwarts, he caught sight of the dot labelled 'Draco Malfoy' and it was in the Astronomy Tower.

What the hell was Malfoy doing there? It was the last place that Harry would have expected to find him; it was certainly one of the last places that he wished to be himself. And yet, despite this, Harry found himself climbing the stairs up to the tower with a twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Harry slipped through the door, his cloak firmly in place. He looked round for familiar blonde head, but it took a moment before he could locate him. Malfoy was sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, his knees bent and his arms wrapped tightly round them.

He just sat and stared in to thin air, his eyes wide and unseeing. Harry just gaped, he didn't know what he had expected to find when he had come here, but this was most certainly not it. There was something so very unsettling about seeing Malfoy like this, so vulnerable.

Suddenly Malfoy was climbing to his feet, dusting down his clothing and smoothing out his robes. Harry smiled at this, even in moments of despair; Malfoy could still find time to care about his appearance.

"Bastard!"

Harry froze at this; did Malfoy know he was here? Who else would he be talking to? Before he could think any further, Malfoy had smashed his fist into the wall of the tower, shouting in fury as he did so.

"Fucking bastard!"

Harry was torn, he wanted to stay and find out more about his rival, but he felt like he was intruding on what Malfoy obviously thought was a private moment. However, his mind was made up for him as, cradling his now injured hand, Malfoy made for the exit and left the tower.

Harry hurried down the staircase after him, and as he got to the bottom, he found Malfoy had stopped and was now leaning his forehead against the wall of the corridor, his shoulders slumped and his injured hand hanging limply at his side.

Something about the forlorn picture he made caught at Harry's heart. Malfoy looked broken and it was not in Harry to walk away from anyone in this kind of misery, whoever they might be.

He slowly walked closer to the distressed boy, reaching out a tentative hand to touch his shoulder, to offer what support he could. Before his hand made contact, he stopped himself, giving himself a mental kick. This was Malfoy, what was he thinking? He would probably hex him as soon as he knew Harry was there.

"You may as well take that cloak off, Potter, I know you're there!"

Draco hadn't been able to sleep that night. He had gone to bed but had simply lain there wide-awake, his mind racing. He was worried, he had known that things would not be easy coming back here, but it seemed that he had drastically underestimated the animosity.

Pansy was another problem; Draco had worried that she had returned to school too early after leaving St Mungo's, but the girl had been insistent. It had been a difficult day for all of them, but Pansy was so fragile to start with, that Draco was not sure how much more she would be able to handle. Despite her denials, Draco knew that she had been shaken by the run in with the 'She-Weasel' on the train, so shaken in fact, that she had allowed Harry Potter to take care of her.And that in itself was a funny thing; Pansy had been close to Draco in her level of hatred for Potter in previous years, but all it had taken was one moment of chivalry and she was converted. Draco should have felt betrayed by his best friend's defection to the enemy, except that he now admitted to himself that Potter wasn't the enemy, and in all probability never had been. Besides, if Draco was going to get Potter for himself, and he was determined that he would, then it was necessary to have Pansy firmly on his side.

Bored of lying on his back with nothing to look at but the canopy on his bed; Draco kicked off his sheets, got out of bed and shrugged on his cloak over his pyjamas. A quick listen told him that Blaise and Theodore were fast asleep, so he slipped out of the door, though the common room, and out into the dungeons.

He hadn't given any thought as to where he was heading, he simply wandered around lost in his thoughts. He was brought to a shuddering halt when he realised where he had ended up. Raising his eyes to look up the stairway to the Astronomy Tower, he felt a shiver run through his body.

As if in a trance, he made his way up the flight of stairs and pushed open the door at the top, his hand shaking as he did so. The instant Draco entered the room he was transported back to that night. He could see Dumbledore, weak and disarmed, offering him help and protection. And he had been going to accept too; he had been lowering his wand ready to throw himself on the mercy of the elder wizard. For just a split second, Draco had been overwhelmed with relief, and then it had been gone, as quickly as it came. With two little words, Professor Snape had snatched it all away from him, condemned him to his fate.

Draco leant against the wall and slid down it onto the floor, his chest heaving with the deep breaths he was taking to calm himself. He realised now that he was angry with his godfather, more so than he was with his parents, with the ministry, or even with Voldemort. Draco had looked up to Snape, revered him almost as much as he did his father, and now he felt let down. Not because the Professor had been on the other side all along, but because he had never extended the chance to Draco. He ignored the small voice that told him he would have likely betrayed the potions master to his father, choosing instead to wallow in his sense of betrayal.

Punching the wall had been a bad idea, Draco realised this as he cradled his throbbing hand and saw the blood on his knuckles. Despite this, he felt better. He had released a lot of tension and anger that he hadn't even realised existed until now. He had been crazy to come to this room though; nothing good would come of it, all it had done was stir up disturbing memories. All Draco knew was that he had to get out of there.

He ran quickly down the staircase, anxious to put as much distance between him and the memories as possible. Exiting the tower, Draco walked a few short steps, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Pausing to catch his breath, he leaned his head against the wall, feeling the cool wall soothe his aching head. All the while cursing his mother for making him return to this place.

When he heard the noise behind him, his heart sank. He had virtually beaten it into his friends how dangerous it was for them to be walking about alone, yet here he was alone and, he realised with a sinking feeling, unarmed. He had left his wand back in the dorm room.

A quick look out of the corner of his eyes revealed no one anywhere in the corridor, but Draco knew what he had heard, and it was like he could almost feel another presence. He shrugged; he must be losing his touch, unless there was an invisible man behind him.

Something in his brain clicked at this, who else would be wandering the halls of Hogwarts at night under the cover of invisibility. Taking a shot, Draco spoke.

"You may as well take that cloak off, Potter, I know you're there."

He heard a sharp intake of breath at this and turned round. He was rewarded with the sight of Harry Potter appearing out of thin air, a sheepish look on his face.

"Still following me, Potter? I thought you got that out of your system in sixth year," Draco smirked.

"I just...are you ok?"

Draco was amazed, Harry Potter was asking him if he was okay, and judging from the look of concern on his face, he actually meant it. Draco could see why Pansy had been so easily converted, in a weak moment it felt like those green eyes could see right into your soul.

Draco shook himself mentally; it wouldn't do to go baring his soul to Potter. It was bad enough that the boy had caught him in a moment of weakness, and Draco was rather concerned about just how long Potter had been there. Had he been up in the tower with him? How much had he seen?

Seeing Potter's eyes rest on his damaged hand, Draco huffed and promptly hid it behind his back.

"I'm fine, Potter, thank you for your concern." For the life of him, Draco could not keep the sneer out of his voice.

He saw the other boy flinch slightly at his words and felt a pull in his stomach as Potter shook his head and turned to walk away.

"Whatever, Malfoy. You really shouldn't be wandering around by yourself though, it's not safe."

"Potter." Draco couldn't stop the word escaping his lips; he didn't want the moment to end so soon.

The dark-haired boy stopped and turned to face Draco, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Thank you."

"What for Malfoy?" Potter asked, confusion evident in his green eyes.

Draco scowled.

"You're actually going to make me say it, aren't you?"

Draco watched as a smile played around the edges of Potter's lips and he felt an overwhelming desire to kiss him. Repressing that urge he continued to speak.

"For helping Pansy on the train, for speaking up for my mother when you really didn't have to, and for saving me from that fire."

"I just did what anyone else would have done."

Draco shook his head and smiled pityingly at his one-time rival.

"Most people would have left me to die, Potter, most people still would, and you had more reason than most to want to leave me there. But you didn't, so thank you."

Feeling suddenly embarrassed at having bared his soul to Harry Potter of all people; Draco inclined his head in acknowledgement of the other boy, and then turned to leave. As he walked away, he heard Potter's voice follow him down the hallway.

"Just watch your back, Malfoy."

And Draco smiled, his first real smile that day, because he knew it wasn't a threat. Harry Potter was concerned about him, and that made him feel warm inside in a way that Draco couldn't ever remember feeling before.

Harry stood and watched Malfoy as he walked away, unable to quite believe what had just happened. He had half expected to be hexed into oblivion for stalking the blonde boy, but what he had got was heartfelt thanks instead.

Usually Harry hated people expressing gratitude to him, it made him feel uncomfortable. But for some reason, Malfoy's speech just left him feeling content for the first time in a long time. Harry shook his head and wondered if hell had frozen over and people had just forgotten to tell him, because he and Draco Malfoy had just had a civilised conversation.


	11. Weight of Expectation

Harry woke, as usual, with his cock hard and throbbing for attention. He listened carefully for sounds of activity from his roommates and, when satisfied they were all still soundly sleeping, he scurried to the bathroom.

He stripped himself quickly of his clothing and stepped into the shower. Before his body was even wet, he had his hand fisting his cock with urgency, his arousal heightened by the thought that he could be discovered at any moment. After only a few minutes of frantic rubbing, he was biting his lip hard to keep from crying out, as his cum spurted onto the tiles.

As he watched his seed wash down the plughole, he felt the usual sense of emptiness that overtook him at these moments. To begin with, it had been self-loathing, plain and simple. But now there was more to it. Sure, he still felt disgust, but there was sadness mixed in with it now, and this overwhelming feeling of loneliness.

Hearing sounds of movement coming from the bedroom, Harry shook his cloud of depression off as best he could. He wrapped a towel round his waist and exited the shower just as Seamus walked in. The Irish boy flashed a warm grin at him.

"Morning, Harry, you're up early."

Harry could have sworn that he saw Seamus' eyes travel down to his crotch as he spoke. He flushed and tried to smile back.

"Yeah, just couldn't sleep."

Harry then scooted past his friend, back into the dormitory. Scrabbling for his clothes, he dressed in his uniform as quickly as possible and, grabbing his robes, he headed out of the room before Seamus returned.

It was true that Harry hadn't been able to sleep that well, but there was another reason for his early rising. It was all part of his plan to deal with, what he had dubbed 'the Ginny situation'. Harry was naive, but not even he believed that Ginny Weasley would give up that easily. And with all the emotional maturity of a teenage boy, he had decided the best course of action was simply to avoid her.

There were very few students in the Great Hall when Harry entered, and he felt a sudden shudder rush though him. Last night, at the Welcome Feast, the hall had been full. But now, with it so empty and silent, he kept imagining he could see bodies everywhere; Tonks, Remus, Fred and so many more, only their eyes were open and looking at him filled with reproach.

"Mr. Potter."

Harry turned to face his Headmistress, so relieved to have been dragged from his thoughts.

Professor McGonagall saw the troubled look in Harry's eyes but said nothing, she only resolved to keep an eye on the boy. She had always thought that Dumbledore had put too much responsibility on his young shoulders, and she felt a slight twinge of guilt that she might be about to do the same.

"Yes, professor?"

Harry smiled at his old Head of House and waited expectantly.

"I would like you to come to my office after your breakfast, Mr. Potter. There is something that I wish to discuss with you."

"In trouble already, Potter?" A voice from behind drawled, before Harry could respond.

He turned round and found himself looking at the smirking face of Draco Malfoy.

"You look tired, Malfoy, late night?" Harry shot back.

Malfoy's smirk widened, so much so that Harry began to think it was actually a genuine smile.

"I will also need to see you and Miss Parkinson, Mr Malfoy. I will give you thirty minutes to eat and then I expect you to come to my office. Mr. Potter, I will expect you fifteen minutes after that. Do not be late."

With that parting shot, Professor McGonagall swept away from them without waiting for a reply. Harry turned to offer his own smirk to Malfoy, and that was when he noticed a very odd thing.

Not only was Malfoy accompanied by his usual band of cronies, it seemed he had the whole of Slytherin House waiting patiently behind him. Raising an eyebrow at the long column of students, Harry turned to the blond boy at its head.

"Fancy yourself as the Pied Piper then, Malfoy?"

The blank look on the other boy's face told Harry that his joke had gone unrecognised. Malfoy scrunched up his nose and stared at him with his piercing grey eyes.

"Surely you have learned by now that your Muggle references are wasted on me, Potter?"

Though it became apparent that he had, in part, understood what Harry was driving at, because he turned to his housemates and waved them on towards the Slytherin table. Pansy had remained at his side and Harry now turned his attention to her. He noticed that her hand was clutched tightly to Malfoy's arm and her eyes still had that wide and nervous look that he had seen the day before on the train.

"Pansy, how are you?"

It felt strange to Harry that he had known this girl for seven years and yet this was the first time he had ever addressed her by her given name. He was rewarded with a small smile from the girl.

"I'm ok, Harry. I wanted to thank you for yesterday."

Harry shrugged her thanks off. "It was nothing, don't mention it." There was almost a plea in his voice at this last remark.

"Nonsense, Potter," came Malfoy's crisp tones. "You were quite clearly Pansy's knight in shining armour ,and for that you have the gratitude of Slytherin House – for what its worth to you."

Harry couldn't quite decide if Malfoy was mocking him or not, but decided that the look on Pansy's face was genuine enough, so he let it go.

Harry watched as the two of them headed off to their table, Pansy's hand still holding tight to Malfoy as she turned round and flashed a brief smile at him.

"What the hell was that about?"

Harry turned round to find a red-faced Ron staring at him, anger evident in his eyes. He bit down the angry retort that was on the tip of his tongue and spoke to his friend calmly instead.

"I was just saying morning to them, Ron, there's no need to look like that."

"Why the hell would you waste your breath on scum like that?" Ron almost snarled at him.

Harry sighed, "They spoke to me, Ron, and I could hardly ignore them."

Harry paused and thought for a moment before continuing. "You really should let it go, Ron, the war is over and they aren't the enemy."

Ron looked at him with such an expression of rage on his face, that Harry felt sure he was going to explode.

"I can't believe you're fucking defending them, Harry. Have you forgotten who they are? What they did?"

Ron's voice echoed round the hall and drew the attention of all its occupants. Harry looked at his friend's angry face and suddenly felt very tired. He reached out a hand and placed it tentatively on Ron's arm.

"I don't want to argue with you, Ron, can't we just agree to disagree on this point?"

"No, you can't have it both ways, Harry, you have to pick a side!"

Harry's hand was flung off Ron's arm with such force that he staggered back slightly.

"I don't HAVE to do anything, Ron, not anymore." Harry spoke so softly that it was almost a whisper.

"They killed Fred, have you forgotten that?" Ron's hands were grabbing the front of Harry's robes by now.

Harry struggled to hold on to his temper, he felt nothing but disgust for his friend at that moment. He couldn't believe that Ron has sunk so low that he would use Fred's death as an excuse for his behaviour. Taking hold of Ron's hands firmly and removing them from his robes, Harry looked his friend in the eyes.

"They had nothing to do with Fred and you know it. Don't you dare use that to justify your behaviour. Now sit down and shut up, before you show yourself up even more than you already have."

Before Ron could respond, Harry had turned away and was now stalking his way over to the Gryffindor table, not noticing the grey eyes that followed his every move.

Draco watched the argument from the other side of the Hall with a faint sense of hope rising inside him. He tried to repress it, tell himself it didn't mean anything, but a little voice at the back of his head kept saying the same thing, over and over – Potter had just defended him. He had just had a row with his best friend in the middle of the Great Hall and it had all been because the Weasel had insulted Draco, and Potter had defended him.

He watched as Potter sank into his seat at the Gryffindor table and noticed how the flush of anger on his cheeks made his eyes seem to glow, even from this distance. That pleased Draco; he had noticed last night that those green eyes didn't seem to flash with emotion in quite the way that he remembered them.

He tried to ignore the insistent nudges that were coming from Pansy, but one last sharp dig to his ribs forced him to pay attention to the girl. He knew what she was going to say, and although he wanted to hear it from someone else's lips, he also didn't want to give himself false hope.

He turned to find the girl smirking at him and wondered, not for the first time, whether the girl had Malfoy blood in her.

"It looks like I'm not the only one with a knight in shining armour, Drakie."

"Pansy, what in Merlin's name have I told you about using that name in public?"

"Don't avoid the subject, Draco. Potter just defended you, and to the Weasel too. Don't tell me you aren't dying to rush over there and kiss him right now."

"Potter was just being...Potter. You know what he's like Pansy; he's all noble and heroic. He was just defending the underdog. Don't read anything into it, please."

"But, Drakie!" She whined.

"But nothing, Pansy, Potter is straight, has a girlfriend, and besides, even if he wasn't, he wouldn't want me. Why would he?"

Pansy looked sharply at her friend, not used to hearing such defeated tones coming from him. She reached out her hand and tucked a loose piece of his blonde hair behind his ear.

"You don't know any of that's true. I've not seen him within twelve feet of the Weasley girl since we got here and I'm sure I heard last year that he had broken up with her. As for him not being gay, well, we just need to find out don't we? No point worrying about that until we know."

She paused here and placed her fingers on Draco's chin, turning his head to face her.

"There are many reasons why he should want you, Draco; you just need to let him see them."

Draco twisted his head away from her, huffing.

"As much as I would love to continue this conversation, Pansy, I do believe we have an appointment with the Headmistress. So stop yakking and get moving!"

Harry hesitated outside the office door, realising that not only did he not know the password but that he wouldn't even be able to guess anymore. With Dumbledore it had been easier to guess, a quick run through most Wizarding sweets, even the occasional Muggle one, and one of them would usually gain you entrance.

Just as he raised his hand to knock on the door, it swung open and Harry found himself about to tap on Pansy Parkinson's face.

"Oh, sorry about that," he said, blushing furiously and yanking down the offending arm.

He was met by the sight of twin smirks and wondered idly if this was something taught to all Slytherins after sorting.

"Hi, Harry."

"Potter."

"Ah, Mr. Potter, do come in. Mr. Malfoy & Miss. Parkinson were just about to leave. Thank you for your time you two, and do give some consideration to what I said."

This last was said to the two departing Slytherins, who merely nodded in acknowledgement before leaving the office. Harry watched as the door closed behind them, before turning to face his Headmistress.

It was very strange to see Professor McGonagall sitting behind the desk when he was so used to seeing blue eyes twinkling back at him. Harry's eyes flicked behind her head to where the portrait of Dumbledore hung and was surprised that he was relieved to find it empty.

A further quick look around the walls showed that there was no portrait of the last occupant of this office, and although Harry was faintly relieved not to find himself scrutinised by those dark staring eyes, he also wondered why it was not there. Seeing that McGonagall was watching him, Harry decided that now was not the time to ask and he turned his attention back to the Headmistress.

Just then, he noticed the glint of metal on the desk in front of him. As he looked closer he discovered that they were two prefect badges, Slytherin prefect badges.

"You took their prefect badges off them? You can't do that, Professor, it's not fair."

The words were out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them and he was surprised to find Professor McGonagall looking faintly amused at his outburst.

"I can assure you, Mr. Potter that I have done no such thing. Mr. Malfoy & Miss. Parkinson decided to resign their prefectship, and I was unable to persuade them to reconsider. However, that is not what I have called you here to discuss."

Harry blushed and mumbled an apology, but he couldn't help wondering what had prompted Malfoy to give up his badge, when he so obviously enjoyed his position of power.

"You may have noticed that there is rather a tense atmosphere in the school at the moment, Mr. Potter."

Harry was unable to repress a snort at this and blushed.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to be rude, but I think that's a bit of an understatement."

Harry watched his professor's face and was surprised to find it twisted into an expression of sorrow.

"You're right, Mr. Potter. I'm afraid that I completely underestimated how deep the divide between the students was. I heard what happened at King's Cross yesterday, and I've seen with my own eyes how the other houses are reacting to the Slytherins. I'm afraid if we don't do something soon, that the damage will become irreparable, and that people will get seriously hurt."

Harry nodded in agreement."I understand what you're saying, and I agree with you, Professor. But I'm not sure why you are telling me this, what can I do about it?"

"Well, that's the thing, Mr. Potter. You see, I rather think that you are the only person who may be able to do anything about it."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but the words died on his lips at a look from his headmistress.

"I don't think you understand just quite how much power you hold over the other students, Mr. Potter. And it's not just because you defeated Voldemort, although that is a part of it. But they respect you, trust you, and as such, are willing to follow you."

"So you want me to what? Go round hugging Slytherins in the hope that everyone else will too. I think you over estimate my abilities, Professor. I've seen how people react to them and I don't think there is anything I can say that will make a difference. I couldn't even get Ron to listen to me this morning."

Professor McGonagall smiled at that.

"And that's just the reason that you are the only person who can do this. You might not have got through to Mr. Weasley, but you tried, you wanted to. Even before I had chance to speak to you, you had already seen what was happening and knew how wrong it was. And more than that, you were prepared to stand up and do something about it."

She leaned forward before continuing.

"Harry, you have more reason than anyone else alive today to hold a grudge against them. We're talking about the children of Death Eaters in some cases – no one would blame you. Yet you don't, you of all people have been the first to begin to move on, to let go of old rivalries. I don't expect you to go around making speeches and trying to convert people, I just want you to lead by example."

Harry leaned back in his chair, the faintest twinge of a headache behind his eyes. This was not what he had signed up for when he agreed to return to Hogwarts. He had just come off seven years of doing what was expected of him, of having responsibility for others, and now it looked like the cycle was beginning again. He let out a faint sigh and looked up at his professor.

"I don't see how it will help, but I'll do what I can."

"And I wouldn't ask for more. Thank you. I know you don't believe this will help, but I have every confidence in you. Now, I think maybe it is time you were getting to your first lesson. Professor Slughorn is no Professor Snape, but he does like his students to be on time."

Harry nodded and rose wearily from his chair. He headed towards the door and as he descended the staircase from the office, he could already feel the familiar weight of expectation starting to crush him.


	12. Welcome To The Snake Pit Part 1

"I don't get it," Blaise whined, as he pouted in a way that was both sexy and cute. Or at least, that's what his bathroom mirror told him!

Draco and Pansy looked at each other over their friend's head and rolled their eyes, sometimes Blaise could be so dense.

It was the weekend of their first week back at Hogwarts and the three friends were currently in the boy's dormitory, sprawled out on Blaise's bed – because Draco had thrown a hissy fit when Pansy had lounged on his freshly made one.

They had tried relaxing in the common room, but found it far too full of excitable first years to be good for any of their nerves. Draco had bitched about it and Pansy had snarled in return that he only had himself to blame, since he had the Slytherins on virtual house arrest for their own safety.

Draco had impatiently dragged his two best friends into the dormitory, and evicted a thoroughly disgruntled Theodore in the process. He had become increasingly frustrated all week by his proximity to Potter, and by the lack of progress he was making towards winning the boy round.

The two ex rivals were at the point where they would acknowledge each others existence, and exchange polite greetings, but other than that, Operation: Get Potter, could be considered a grand failure. And, as Draco told himself, if there was one word not in the Malfoy vocabulary, it was failure. They always got what they wanted. OK, so there had been that one time when his father had followed a madman and ended up in jail, but Draco chose to ignore that.

Loathe as he was to admit it, Draco was at a loss. How to piss Potter off? that Draco knew. But the information that Draco had gleaned about the green-eyed boy during seven years of animosity was no use in this situation. How to make Potter fall in love with him? Draco hadn't got a fucking clue.

He had never had to work for it before; he was a rich, good looking, pure-blooded Wizard, who had, up till now, been able to have anyone he damn well chose. But he knew that none of that mattered to Potter. The boy wore his heart on his sleeve, and his every emotion in those vivid green eyes, and Draco had a sickening feeling that nothing less than this from him in return would convince Potter to give him a chance.

Which was why he had holed up in this room with his friends; well, it was the reason that Pansy was there. Blaise... well right about now, Draco was wondering exactly why he had invited the Italian boy along.

So Draco and Pansy had plotted and schemed to their hearts content and Blaise had listened and tried to look interested. But right now he was confused.

"I don't get it, Pansy," he whined again. "Draco wants Potter, but why do we have to try to be friends with him too?"

Pansy patted Blaise's head and spoke in a slow, patronising tone.

"Because, Blaise, Draco is our friend and he wants to be with Potter, so we are being supportive. Besides, it would be awkward for Draco if his friends didn't get on with his boyfriend."

Blaise looked first at Pansy and then at Draco, confusion evident on his face.

"Boyfriend?" he gasped, his mouth hanging open.

Draco looked back at him through narrowing eyes.

"Yes, Blaise, boyfriend! Or at least, I hope so. Is that a problem for you?"

Sensing the barely concealed menace in his friend's voice, Blaise shook his head, his dark curls bobbing as he did so.

"No, Draco. Of course it's not a problem. I just didn't realise that was what you wanted."

"You know how I feel about him." Draco's grey eyes looked searchingly into his friend's dark ones.

"Well, Pansy said you liked him, but I guess I just figured that meant you wanted to fuck him. I mean, you were never one for relationships Draco."

At this point Pansy took pity on the two boys. Draco's face had flushed bright red and his fingers were twisting nervously in his robes, and Blaise was just looking confused still.

"Draco's in love with him, Blaise. That's why we're doing this. Do you really think he would go to this much trouble just for a fuck? Merlin, he's got you for that!" Pansy flashed her friend an evil smirk as she finished.

"Hey, that's uncalled for," Blaise squealed. But upon seeing Pansy's face, he added "OK, so it might be a little true, but it's still uncalled for. You make me sound like a slut, I'm not Finnigan."

Blaise looked at his friend, but Draco wouldn't meet his gaze. His drooping head caused his blond hair to shield his face in a platinum curtain, which shone like silk, even in the gloom of the dungeons.

"I'll help," he said simply.

He was rewarded with a beaming smile that was rarely seen on the face of the Slytherin Ice Prince.

Pansy clapped her hands excitedly, "Right, now that we are all on board, this is what we are going to do."

Harry couldn't remember the last time he had felt so free. As he circled the sky over Hogwarts, the wind rushing through his hair, he felt completely at peace.

It was the Saturday at the end of his first week back at school, and he had bolted his breakfast down that morning in his eagerness to be in the air. He had been flying for well over an hour now and he still wasn't ready to go back down.

Ron had offered to come with him but Harry wanted to be alone and had said so. He also hadn't missed the flash of relief that crossed his friend's freckled face at his refusal. Ron and Harry had made their peace again, but it was a fragile one. Only the unspoken agreement not to mention certain topics was keeping it in place. Besides that, Ron and Hermione were becoming increasingly joined at the hip, leaving very little room for a third member of the group.

Harry no longer had his firebolt, and couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret when he thought of it, which naturally led to thoughts of Sirius. However, not even riding one of the schools beaten up Cleansweeps could spoil Harry's mood. In fact, he thought that nothing could. That was until a quick glance downwards revealed to Harry a lone figure standing right next to where he had left his robes. Squinting through his glasses, he recognised, with some trepidation, the red-head of Ginny Weasley.

Harry had managed, quite successfully, to avoid her for most of the last week. It had been made easier by the fact that she was still angry with him. In fact, they had barely acknowledged each other's existence since the incident on the train. Harry wasn't sure if she was still mad at him for that or for spurning her advances back at The Burrow.

Classes had been easy since the returning seventh years were kept as a separate group from the new ones. And Harry had found, that by getting up early, he could be down in the Great Hall and finished with breakfast before she had even stirred from her dormitory. He had also spent a lot of the last week ducking into empty classrooms (and the odd full one!), running in the opposite direction and, on one memorable occasion, hiding behind a suit of armour.

The evenings were more difficult but Harry did have the advantage of having his own house-elf at Hogwarts. Kreacher was only too happy to bring food to Harry in Gryffindor Tower whilst his friends were all at dinner. Before the other students returned, Harry would disappear to his dorm. This was much to the amusement of Seamus, who knew exactly what Harry was up to, and would come, with Neville, to keep him company most nights.

However, this was one confrontation he wasn't going to be able to avoid. Summoning up his 'Gryffindor courage' he slowly returned to the ground. Ginny stood with her arms folded and a glare on her face. Harry thought how much she looked like Mrs Weasley did when she was about to shout at one of her kids, but he figured this probably wasn't the time to mention it!

"Hi Ginny," he said, keeping his tone neutral.

"Are you avoiding me, Harry?" Her voice had a touch of shrill to it, which was also very reminiscent of her mother.

There went all hope of this being an easy conversation, and Harry realised, with a sinking feeling, that this was probably not going to end well. Shifting from one foot to the other, nervously, he looked into her accusing eyes.

"No, Ginny," he lied.

"Then why have you been hiding in your dorm every night? and don't say you haven't Harry. I know Seamus has been lying for you!"

Thinking quickly, Harry spoke.

"It's not you, Gin. It's just that I can't handle everyone staring at me, or the constant questions about things I want to forget."

Strictly speaking it was truth, Harry did feel that way. So it wasn't really lying, he told himself, trying to ease his conscience.

Ginny's face softened at that and she reached out a hand to touch his arm. It took all of Harry's self-control not to twist away from the contact, but he managed to remain still.

"Oh, Harry, you should have said. I thought that you were still angry at me about what happened on the train. I should've known better. You would never fall out with me over something as trivial as that."

Harry opened his mouth to speak at this. To tell her that actually he was still pissed at her for that, that it hadn't been trivial to Pansy. But Ginny was talking again before he could form the words.

"I should have realised when you were arguing with Ron about Malfoy."

"Realised what exactly?" Harry questioned, his voice calm, hiding his growing irritation.

"That you were just confused," Ginny explained, in the slightly patronising tones that one would use when talking to a small child.

"I'm confused?" Harry repeated, not knowing what else he could say to that.

"Yes," she nodded, smiling. "But its OK, Harry; I forgive you. I know you didn't really mean what you said." With this, she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him into a suffocating hug.

Instinctively, Harry took hold of her hands and removed them from around his neck. He did hold onto her hands though, thinking it might prevent him from getting the slap that seemed was inevitable now.

"You forgive me?"

"Oh yes, Harry." Ginny smiled eagerly, completely missing the dangerous calm of his tone. "I could never stay mad at you. Besides, I don't want us to fall out just as we are getting back together."

"We're getting back together?" Harry's anger was now replaced by a mild sense of panic and he couldn't stop himself from repeating her words. Trying to see if they sounded less crazy when he said them.

"Of course. There's no reason for us to be apart now that Voldemort is gone. You did it, Harry, and now we can be together."

She moved to hug him again but this time Harry stepped back from her embrace.

"What's wrong with you? You just stand there repeating everything I say like an idiot. I thought this was what you wanted?"

"It was," he said quietly.

Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Was?" she snapped. "What the hell are you trying to say? Are you breaking up with me?"

"No, I'm not breaking up with you," Harry began.

Ginny smiled again, but it didn't last long when Harry continued.

"I'm not breaking up with you, because I already did that. We're not together and we haven't been for a long time."

Ginny reeled from this as though Harry had slapped her. He noticed that her hands were shaking and felt instantly guilty over upsetting her. It wasn't until she raised her head again and their eyes met, that he realised she was actually shaking with anger. Her eyes blazed as she stepped towards him.

"You think you can just dump me like I'm nothing? I'm not nothing, Harry," she screamed.

Harry cast a quick nervous look around, praying that there were no other students around to witness this scene, before answering.

"I didn't say that, I know you're not nothing."

"So why don't you want me?" Her hands were now grabbing onto his jumper, her eyes wild.

"Why don't you love me anymore? What did I do wrong?" she begged frantically

Harry sighed, realising he would have to tell her the truth, she deserved that at least.

"I do love you, Ginny; I'm just not in love with you. I don't think I ever was. It's not your fault. It's not you, it's me."

He didn't notice Ginny raise her hand until he felt the sting of it against his cold cheek.

"Bastard," she spat. "Is that the best you can do? Ron was right about you, you just think you're too good for us now."

Harry gaped at her, shocked by the venom in her voice. Ginny took his silence as a sign that his resolve was weakening.

"Don't do this," she wheedled. "Everyone expects us to be together, don't disappoint them. Mum has her heart set on you really becoming one of the family."

Harry shook his head tiredly.

"I can't be with you to please other people; it wouldn't be fair to either of us. Your mum would want you to be with someone who loves you, not someone who is with you out of some twisted sense of obligation."

Realising that her words had no effect, her anger returned.

"How dare you! We supported you, believed you when no one else would, fought by your side, risked our lives, Fred died and now you want to turn your back on us? You owe us!"

Harry took a deep breath and fought to hold onto his temper. All the while reminding himself that she was a girl and couldn't be hit, no matter how much she might deserve it. He stepped away from her with a cold look in his eyes.

"This has nothing to do with your family, don't you dare make this about them. It's over. Any feelings I had left for you just ended. Now I would appreciate it if you stayed away from me in future."

Harry turned to walk away, his fists clenched at his sides. But before he could leave, Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him round to face her.

"I'm not done talking to you, don't you dare walk away from me!"

Harry was sure that they must be able to hear her up at the castle by now and he just wanted it to end.

"I think you've said enough. There's nothing left to say, just accept that it's over."

With that, Harry strode away from her, determined not to look round. He had got only a dozen or so paces when he heard her screaming after him.

"It's not over just because you say it is, Harry!"

Pansy watched with narrowed eyes as Ginny Weasley slapped Harry around the face. She couldn't believe the girl had the nerve to tell Harry Potter, of all people, that he owed her. Stupid little bitch, the Slytherin thought. Pansy was no Gryffindor, but even she realised just what the Wizarding world owed to their saviour.

She was relieved to see Harry walk away from Weasley girl, not that she wanted to see him hurt, it just meant that there was one less obstacle between him and Draco.

Pansy was amazed with the speed at which she had come to think of him as Harry. He had been Potter for seven years and yet in less than one week, that had all changed, or rather he had changed it. She would have made the effort to like him for Draco's sake anyway; but when Harry helped her on the train, rescued her from his ex-girlfriend, Pansy had been fairly overwhelmed with conflicting emotions.

Pansy started to walk towards Harry, trying her best to make it look casual. She would have been absolutely terrified of being out in the open like this, were it not for the fact that Draco and Blaise had hidden behind the nearby changing rooms, watching over her till Potter arrived.

"Hey, Pansy."

"Hi, Harry," she smiled. "You OK? That sounded quite messy."

Harry blushed; he had really hoped that no one had seen the argument. He gave Pansy a wry grin.

"You caught the performance then?"

"Just the end bit. You know it's not true don't you? You don't owe her anything, hell; you don't owe any of us anything. We couldn't be more in your debt if we tried."

Harry didn't think he could blush anymore than he already was doing. Pansy Parkinson, the pug-faced bitch of Slytherin had just paid him a huge compliment. And even though Harry was heartily sick of people singing his praises, he found that somehow he didn't mind when Pansy did it.

He took a quick sideways glance at the girl, his eyes running over her features. He thought, on reflection, that she really didn't look like a pug at all; it was just that she had an upturned nose that made people see it. Also, the hard edge that had once been there was gone, and had been replaced by a softer expression that held hints of the vulnerability Harry had witnessed on the train. He realised just how much the war had changed them all. Hell, even Malfoy wasn't really being an arse anymore.

Unable to think of a suitable response to her compliment, Harry decided not to say anything. And strangely enough, Pansy didn't seem to expect him to either. Just then a thought struck Harry.

"Pansy, should you be out here on your own? Is it safe?" Harry cast a quick look over his shoulder and Pansy knew he was looking in the direction that an angry Ginny Weasley had just gone.

"Probably not," she admitted, "Draco will probably kill me, if someone else doesn't get to me first. But it's just so frustrating being holed up in those dungeons all the time. Drakie means well, but he's driving me crazy."

"Drakie?" Harry smirked at her, one eyebrow raised in question.

Pansy slapped her hand over her mouth in horror at her slip."Shit, he really will kill me now. You won't tell him will you, Harry?"

Harry chuckled, "I'm starting to see Malfoy in a whole new light."

Then, seeing the genuine concern on the Slytherin girl's face, he relented.

"OK, I won't say anything. I just hope you realise how much of an effort it will be not to aggravate him just a little bit. It's not like he wouldn't do the same to me."

Pansy nodded in agreement and grinned her thanks at him.

"Are you going back up to the castle?"

"Umm, I think it might be best if I avoided Gryffindor Tower for a while. I don't really want to run into Ginny right now, or Ron for that matter."

"Coward," Pansy teased. "Where's this famous Gryffindor courage I hear so much about?"

"Must be the Slytherin self-preservation coming out in me then." Harry smirked and then shook his head at the question in her eyes. "Ask me another time."

Pansy took a deep breath before speaking her next words.

"Well, if you can't go there, why don't you come back with me?"

Harry looked at her in shock. Had he imagined it, or had Pansy Parkinson just invited him into the Slytherin dungeons? But then, Harry knew what was coming when he finally entered Gryffindor tower, and he really wanted to put that off as long as he possibly could. Plus, his noble side was already insisting that he would have to walk Pansy back there anyway.

What harm would it do to go in for a bit? It's not like any of them were going to try and attack him anymore. And the worst that they could do to him would still be significantly better than what two very angry Weasleys were probably planning right now. And then there was that whole responsibility crap that McGonagall had dumped on him. Harry figured that this was probably the best chance he would have to make a start at building bridges between the Slytherins and the other houses.

He gave Pansy a quick nod and smiled.

"Ok, why not. It might be quite enlightening to see you snakes in your natural habitat."

He paused here for a moment before adding, with hint of concern in his voice, "Won't Malfoy object to you bringing in the Gryffindor Golden Boy, though?"

Pansy smirked back at him. "I have Draco wrapped round my little finger. I could bring your Weasel friend in and he would let it go, if it's what I wanted. Besides," she added conspiratorially, "I happen to know that Draco will be in the library all morning."

Pansy took hold of Harry's arm before he changed his mind, and began leading him back up to the castle. They made their way down to the dungeons and paused before the entrance to the common room. Pansy could feel Harry tense as he stood in front of the door, hardly surprising really, she thought. Not like anyone in Slytherin had ever been anything but mean to the boy. She turned to him with a smile.

"Ready?"

Harry just nodded in reply. His stomach flipped with nerves as Pansy murmured the password and swung the door open.

"Welcome to the snake pit!"


	13. Welcome To The Snake Pit Part 2

As they stood in the doorway to the Slytherin common room, Pansy could feel Harry tense up. She took hold of his arm, gave it a slight squeeze, and then proceeded to drag him unceremoniously inside.

Harry looked round and found that the room was much the same as it had been back in the second year. He couldn't help but contrast it against the bright cheerfulness of the cosy room in Gryffindor tower. Being in the dungeons, the room was dark; the only light was an almost green glow coming from the sconces, which were dotted around the walls. There was a blazing fire burning, but from where Harry stood he could still feel the chill that permeated the walls.

Around the room were various sofas and chairs in a dark green leather; the floor was covered in flagstones, with only the occasional rug. Around the fireplace were several rather stately looking wingback chairs, which despite the crowded room, remained empty.

It was then that Harry realised just how many pairs of eyes had turned to stare at him in undisguised shock, and in some cases - outrage. He couldn't really blame them he supposed. After all, if Malfoy had walked into Gryffindor tower, the reaction would be a similar stunned silence. Although a fairly severe hexing would probably follow it, which Harry prayed wouldn't be the same for him.

His footsteps faltered slightly and Pansy, sensing his unease, turned a fierce glare on her housemates.

"Yes," she hissed, "Harry Potter is in the Slytherin common room. I hope you've all had a good look, because the next person I catch staring will find themselves on the wrong end of my wand."

Harry noticed the satisfied smirk on the dark-haired girl's face as the room's occupants immediately began to look in any direction but at him.

"That's impressive," he whispered. "D'you think I could get you to do that in the Great Hall later?"

Pansy chuckled. "Somehow I don't think I would get quite the same response from the other houses."

"Pansy, where have you been? Draco will kill me if he finds out I let you go wandering off on your own!"

A very agitated Theodore Nott was stood blocking their path.

Pansy huffed. "You didn't let me go, Theo, and you certainly wouldn't have been able to stop me. Besides, I wasn't alone, I was with Harry."

Nott turned and looked at Harry as if noticing him for the first time. He gave a curt nod.

"Potter."

Harry threw caution to the wind and held out his hand to the other boy.

"Harry," he corrected.

Nott gave him an appraising stare before slowly reaching out and accepting the offered handshake.

"Theodore," he stated, with a sideways look at Pansy who was smiling her approval.

"I'll be in my room if Draco comes back," she said, before taking hold of Harry's arm again and dragging him in the direction of the girl's dormitories.

She pulled Harry through the door into her bedroom.

"Excuse the mess. Millie is a real slob," she explained as she moved various items of clothing off her bed. Smoothing the comforter, she sat down and looked over to Harry who was standing nervously in the door way.

"It's safe to come in, you know. I'm not going to jump you."

Harry flushed but nonetheless walked slowly over to Pansy and took the spot she indicated next to her on the bed.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," he mumbled nervously.

Pansy laughed, "Harry, this is Slytherin, not Gryffindor. No one is going to bat an eyelid at you being in here. You should see what goes on in the common room sometimes!"

Harry's eyes widened as the implications of this statement hit him. For a boy of eighteen, Harry was surprising naïve in some ways, and this was certainly one of them. Perched uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, he looked over at Pansy.

"I would think Malfoy would have plenty to say about me being in here with his girlfriend."

Pansy let out a peal of laughter at this, only stopping when she noticed the slightly offended look on Harry's face.

"Oh, Harry. I'm sorry, but that's so funny. You think I'm Draco's girlfriend? Wait till I tell him that."

"Well, you're always together," Harry said defensively.

Pansy thought quickly; Draco hadn't given her permission to out him to Harry yet, but then he hadn't said that she couldn't either. Besides, the way she saw it, if Harry believed that Draco was straight, there was no way he would ever show any interest in the boy.

"I'm not exactly what you would call Draco's type, Harry. He prefers his girls more masculine."

Harry looked confused. "Like Millicent Bulstrode, you mean?" he asked, scrunching his nose up in slight disgust.

"No, Harry." Pansy grinned at him. "More like Blaise." Then she sat back and waited for the Knut to drop.

It took a moment for the realisation of what Pansy was saying to hit him. Harry's eyes widened and he stared at her in open-mouthed shock.

"Malfoy's gay?"

Pansy nodded.

"And he's with Blaise?"

"No," she answered, shaking her head. "Blaise and Draco had a bit of a thing a few years ago, but they're just really good friends now."Harry was amazed by her calm acceptance of her friend's sexuality. The only experience he had of attitudes towards gay people was his Uncle Vernon's homophobic ranting about poofs and queers. And these were the thoughts that had shaped his opinions on his own sexuality. He felt a small weight lift from his shoulders as he realised that maybe not everyone would think he was a freak.

"Doesn't it bother you?" he asked curiously, eager to know more.

Pansy shook her head emphatically. "Of course not. OK, I was a little pissed when I realised that we weren't going to get married like I had always thought. But Draco's my best friend and I want him to be happy. And if shagging blokes is what does that for him, then that's good enough for me."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "I would never have guessed."

"Really?" Pansy questioned. "I mean, he does pay a lot more attention to his hair and clothes than your average teenage boy. He has manicures for Merlin's sake!"

"Not all gay men are like that though are they?"

"No," Pansy admitted slowly. "But how many straight men do you know that are?"

Harry thought about this for a moment.

"What about Malfoy's dad? He always seemed to be really into his appearance. All that long hair, the fancy robes, and don't even get me started on that snake stick thing he carries everywhere."

Pansy smirked, aware she was about to give Harry another shock.

"Well they do say that Mr Malfoy and Professor Snape were very close when they were younger."

Harry's eyes widened so much that Pansy reflected they were in danger of falling out.

"Lucius Malfoy? And Professor Snape? But that's...I mean...Snape can't be gay, he was..."

Harry trailed off here, not really wanting to discuss the fact that Snape had been in love with his dead mother for the best part of the last two decades.

Pansy raised an eyebrow at him in question. "Why couldn't he be gay, Harry?"

Harry fumbled around for an explanation that wasn't the truth.

"Well, he just didn't seem the type."

Pansy chuckled. "The type? There isn't a set type of man that is gay ,Harry. Surely you know that? They don't wear pink robes and mince around, limp-wristed, all day. In fact, you would be surprised at just how many gay people you know without even realising it."

This caught Harry's attention now and he leaned closer to her. "Who?" he almost whispered."Well, your Irish friend Finnigan, for one. Although I suppose he really is more what you would call bisexual."

Harry was stunned. "Seamus! How do you know?" he asked weakly, as he flopped back onto the bed.

"Blaise," Pansy replied simply.

"Who else?" Harry gasped, not sure if he could handle any more surprises, but equally sure that he couldn't handle not knowing.

"That pompous Hufflepuff, Macmillan. Although, I have it on very good authority that he isn't quite so pompous when he's on his hands and knees." Pansy paused here for a big grin at the dazed boy sitting next to her, before rocking his world one more time.

"Oh, and there's Longbottom too. I'm pretty sure he plays for the team as well. I saw him and the Leprechaun boy in quite a compromising position last year."

"N-n-neville?" Harry stuttered.

"Yep."

Pansy was thoroughly enjoying herself now. "And I almost forgot Boot from Ravenclaw. Although I'm surprised you don't know about him, seeing as how he and Finnigan spent most of fifth year rutting like dogs in your dormitory!"

"Fuck, Pansy! Did we even go to the same school? How do I not know this stuff?" Harry let out a quiet laugh. "I must have been walking round with my eyes closed for the last seven years."

"I think that you were a little busy saving us all from a madman."The laughter died from Harry's eyes and he turned away. Pansy looked at him nervously, scared she had offended him somehow.

"You really don't like talking about that do you? I'm sorry; I won't bring it up again."

Harry sat up and looked into Pansy's eyes.

"It's OK. You don't have to apologise. It just makes me feel uncomfortable when people thank me like I single-handedly saved the world. I'm not the Saviour, Pansy. People died; people I loved, and I couldn't save them."

"Do you blame yourself?" she asked, looking at him speculatively.

Anger flashed briefly in Harry's eyes. "What the hell kind of question is that?" he snapped.

Pansy flushed slightly and couldn't meet his eyes. Her fingers plucked at some invisible thread on her robes.

"I didn't mean to offend you," she whispered. "It's just that I know how it feels to feel guilt for something like that."

Harry wanted to ask more, but knew that the girl was struggling to retain her composure. Instead, he reached out and covered one of her small hands with his own larger, tanned one, and gave it a squeeze.

Pansy laced her fingers with his and looked up with a weak smile. "I want to tell you, it's just..." she trailed off.

"You're not ready," Harry finished. "It's OK, I know how that feels."

Before either of them could say anything further, the door banged opened and a petite blonde girl walked in. Noticing their linked hands, she smirked as she spoke.

"Oh sorry, Pansy, I didn't realise you were entertaining."

Harry felt a blush creep over his cheeks as he understood the implication of her words. Pansy looked at the other girl with narrowed eyes.

"What do you want, Daphne?" she asked sharply.

"I just came to tell you that Draco was back and he's looking for you. But I guess I'll just tell him you got a better offer."

There was no mistaking the leer that she sent in Harry's direction. She took a step closer to the bed and reached out a hand to touch his cheek. "And such a pretty one too."

Pansy slapped her hand down. "Back off, Greengrass. You can tell Draco I will be out in a minute."

As soon as the other girl had left the room, Pansy turned back to Harry and began to laugh at the look of mock outrage on his face.

"She just called me pretty! Do I look like a girl?"

"No, Harry, you definitely look like a boy. Believe it or not, it was meant as a compliment." Pansy leaned closer and scrutinised his face. "Besides, she may be right. You are rather pretty."

Harry grimaced at the girl and then clambered up off the bed and rescued his broom from where it lay abandoned on the floor.

"I guess I better get going then."

Pansy looked at him in surprise. "Why? I thought you weren't in any hurry to go back?"

"I'm not," Harry admitted. "But I thought you were going off to find Malfoy?"

"I'm only going into the common room, and I was planning on you coming with me."

Harry felt a little conflicted in his emotions regarding this. On the one hand, Pansy was right; he wanted to put off going back to Gryffindor tower for as long as he could. Plus he was enjoying Pansy's company; he felt like he could relax around her, like he didn't have to pretend anything because she had no expectations of him anyway.

On the other hand he was nervous. Despite the recent ceasefire in their hostilities, Harry still had no idea how Malfoy would react to his presence in the Slytherin common room.

"I hardly think that Malfoy will want to spend his weekend with Harry Potter." He said, with the slightest hint of bitterness in his tone

Pansy sighed, "Draco won't mind at all." She paused here and thought carefully before continuing. "He's not the person you think he is, Harry. I know I have no right to ask this of you, but just give him a chance. I think you two will actually get on."

Harry grinned. "Ok, let's go see Drakie."

"Harry Potter, don't you dare. You promised me you wouldn't say anything."

Pansy emphasised her point by slapping Harry on the arm. All she got in return was an almost Slytherin-worthy smirk.

Shaking her head, she grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him towards the common room.

Draco was sprawled in his chair by the fireplace. He was outwardly calm but on the inside his stomach was busy tying itself into knots. He ran his hand nervously through his blonde hair for the umpteenth time that morning. Blaise reached over and smacked his hand away.

"Your hair looks fine, Draco. Leave it alone or you'll make a mess of it, and what would Golden Boy think then?"Draco fixed a glare on his dark-haired friend and opened his mouth to fling a sharp retort at him. However, the words never made it past his lips as he saw Pansy enter the room dragging a slightly nervous looking Harry Potter behind her.

"Pansy," he drawled. "Daphne said you had company but I had no idea who it was." He leant forward in his chair. "Tell me Potter, what brings you to the dungeons?"

"He's here because I invited him, Draco; now play nicely. I just got done telling him that you weren't a complete arse, so could you not make a liar out of me please?"

Draco gave Pansy a quick grin and then turned to Harry. "Sorry, Potter. It's a hard habit to break after seven years."Harry shrugged. "That's OK, Malfoy. It'll take a bit of getting used to for both of us."Draco nodded in agreement. "So what do you think then?" he asked, gesturing to the room with a wave of his hand.

"It's not bad. Not that different to the last time I was in here." Harry leant back in his chair and waited for the outcry that would greet his words.

Draco eyes widened in shock, Pansy giggled, and Blaise spat his pumpkin juice out.

"You've been in here before? When?"

Harry smirked at Draco, enjoying the confusion on the other boy's face.

"Second year; Ron and I came in. We actually sat and had a chat with you."

Draco leant forward in his chair and Harry could see his brain working overtime.

"You and the Weasel in the Slytherin common room? I think I would of remembered that, Potter."

"Well, it's quite possible that you thought we were Crabbe and Goyle at the time."

"And why would I have thought that?" Draco drawled.

Harry smirked again. "Because we were polyjuiced to look like them!"

Draco shook his head in amazement and Harry just grinned back at him.

"You never cease to amaze me, Potter."

Harry leaned back in his chair, a satisfied look on his face. "That's good to know, Malfoy. I wouldn't want to become predictable, now would I?"

Before Draco could think of anything to say, Millicent Bulstrode walked over and joined the group.

"Blaise, we have to go. McGonagall wants to see the prefects." She looked down at the Italian boy, "And for Merlin's sake, do something about your robes. You look like you've drooled down them."

Blaise looked down at his robes and smiled ruefully. "Pumpkin juice," he explained.

Millicent huffed. "I don't care what it is, just do something about it." With that she took hold of his arm, dragged him to his feet, and shoved him in the direction of the boy's dormitory.

Harry looked round at the two remaining Slytherins thoughtfully, suddenly reminded of a question he had been wanting to ask all week.

"Tell me to mind my own business if you like," he started. "But how come you two gave up being prefects?"

Draco looked at him in surprise. "What makes you think we gave it up? McGonagall could have just taken it off us."

"Well, I suppose she could of," said Harry slowly. "Except that she told me you two handed the badges back and she couldn't talk you out of it."

Draco opened his mouth to speak but Pansy leaned over and gave him a playful swat on the arm. "Stop being difficult, Draco, it's a fair question."

She turned to Harry before continuing.

"We talked it over before coming back to school and decided it was for the best. You've seen how the other houses react to Slytherins, especially me and Draco. After what happened last year, we thought it would be best if we kept a low profile. Blaise and Millicent weren't here last year, so the others aren't quite so hostile to them. You saw for yourself on the train the kind of reaction we get. Can you really see the other students listening to us?"

"We weren't exactly popular before, but now... Well, all people see when they look at us is children of Death Eaters, and in Draco's case they think he actually was one."

Harry flushed at this, remembering how he had tried to convince his friends and Dumbledore that Malfoy had taken the Dark Mark back in the sixth year. He shifted uneasily in his chair, which did not escape Draco's notice. However, the blond boy didn't want to dwell on his past sins, or remind Potter of them, so he swiftly changed the subject.

"Why on earth are you out flying on that decrepit old broom, Potter? What happened to your Firebolt?"

Harry visibly relaxed at the change of subject. "Oh, this one is a school broom I borrowed. I left my broom behind at my relatives last year before...well, you know. I haven't been back since; I don't think I would exactly be welcomed with open arms."

Draco raised an eyebrow at this statement; this was news to him. He had always thought that Potter was treated like the Golden Boy wherever he went. However, the tone of the other boy's voice told him it wasn't a subject he was prepared to discuss, so Draco filed the information away to be investigated at a later date.

"How come you haven't got a new one? There must be any number of people who would fall over themselves to provide 'the Saviour' with anything he wanted."

"I guess," Harry said thoughtfully. "But it just doesn't feel right replacing it. It's the only thing I had left from my godfather, and I ..." Harry trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Draco and Pansy sensed his discomfort and wisely didn't pursue the subject.

They sat in silence for a few moments, all of them racking their brains for a safe topic of conversation that wouldn't lead to another one of these awkward moments. They were saved from the trouble by the distraction of a large line of Slytherin students forming by the common room door.

"Lunch time," Pansy commented, getting up from her chair. "You'd better go now, Harry, and we'll give you a head start."Harry looked up in surprise. "Why would I want to do that? Is there some reason I can't walk up with you guys?"

Draco came to stand next to them. "It might not go down too well with your friends, Potter. Seeing you walk into the Great Hall surrounded by Slytherins."

Harry only shrugged. "That's their problem then, isn't it. I can be friends with whoever I want. If the Gryffindors don't like it, well that's just tough."

Draco nodded calmly, but inside he was mentally performing cartwheels. Harry had just said that they were friends! It was all he could do to keep the goofy grin off his face as he walked out of the dungeons towards the Great Hall, with Harry Potter at his side.


	14. Spirit Of Understanding

As luck would have it, neither Ron, Hermione or Ginny were in the Great Hall to see Harry enter, flanked on both sides by Slytherins. He bid farewell to his new friends and headed over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring as he went, the stares and whispers of his fellow students.

As he approached, Seamus slid down the bench and Harry gratefully slipped into the space created by his friend. As he looked round he noticed that Dean was looking at him with a grin on his face.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance, Harry. It's a good job Ron didn't see it, I think his head may have exploded."

Harry smiled, but looked at his friend calmly. "Is it a problem?"

"Nah, mate. I'm not so sure I would want to go hang out with them myself, but it's cool if you want to."

Harry then looked round at Neville and Seamus with a question in his eyes.

Seamus merely shrugged. "Life's too short, I reckon. Besides, I never really had that much of a problem with them. Well not till last year anyway."

Neville turned a thoughtful gaze to Harry. "If you can let go of the past and be friends with them, then I think any of us can. You probably have more reason than most to hold a grudge. If you say they've changed, then that's good enough for me."

Harry thought for a moment before replying softly. "I think they have, Neville, some of them anyway. Or maybe we were so fixated on the whole Slytherins are evil thing that we never bothered to look any deeper."

Neville nodded and smiled. "You may be right."

Harry visibly relaxed; although he wouldn't allow his friends opinions to alter his decisions, he would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about how they would take his sudden friendship with their one time rivals.

The four friends then sank into virtual silence; there was food on the table and healthy teenage appetites to be sated.

Once lunch was over Harry found himself led off to the Library by Neville, persuaded by promises of help on his Herbology essay.

It was two feet of parchment and it was due Monday. Harry, of course, had not even started it. How much could there possibly be to say about the uses of Mooncalf Dung he thought to himself, as he viciously dug his quill into his parchment, tearing it in the process.

Neville looked up sympathetically and patiently gave Harry a few suggestions as to where to start. After a couple of minutes, Harry had a basic grasp of what to write and was scratching away happily. Neville looked over and smiled as he noticed the tip of his friend 's tongue poking between his lips as he concentrated. Chuckling silently, he went back to his own work.

Harry finally completed the two feet of parchment, well almost, but he didn't thing that Professor Sprout would worry too much about a couple of missing inches. He leant back in his chair and looked over at Neville, who was still busy scratching away, and Harry could have sworn that he had completed at least three feet already.

As he watched his friend, he couldn't help but think back to what Pansy had told him earlier about catching him and Seamus together. She hadn't actually said what they were doing, and Harry hadn't liked to ask in case she thought it was strange that he wanted to know.

Several images of exactly what they could have been doing came unbidden into Harry's mind. He felt his cheeks heat up and he silently berated himself for thinking about his friends that way. Neville looked up at this point, and seeing his friend's thoughtful gaze, and the blush on his face, he whispered, "Something on your mind Harry?"

Harry's eyes snapped up to meet the enquiring gaze of his friend, the heat in his cheeks increasing. There were several ways he could answer that question, but somehow he thought that telling Neville he had been imagining him and Seamus fucking wasn't really the way to go.

"No," he replied. "Just thinking about stuff." Great answer, Harry, he thought to himself.

Neville smiled at him and went back to his work. Determined to look anywhere but at his friend, Harry took to gazing around the Library, anything to put off starting his Potions homework.

Neville watched Harry out of the corner of his eye and noticed as a small smile crept over his face. Looking up to see what had caught his attention, he noticed a small group Slytherins had entered the room, led by Draco Malfoy – who, Neville was amused to see, was smiling right back at Harry. Neville chewed on his quill thoughtfully as he observed the silent interaction between the two boys

"Harry!"

Harry reluctantly turned his head back to Neville.

"Yeah?"

"There's plenty of room at this table, why don't you ask them to join us?"

"What? Who are you... Oh, you mean Malfoy?"

"No, Harry, I mean the other blond boy that just walked in and smiled at you." Neville couldn't help but let a hint of sarcasm creep into his tone and was rewarded by a renewed flush on his friend's face.

"Are you sure, Neville? I mean, you don't exactly like Malfoy."

Neville shook his head, "Its fine. Like I said earlier, I trust you. If you're willing to give him another chance then that's enough for me."

Draco struggled to rein in his joy at seeing Harry again so soon. He felt a warm feeling spread through his insides at the sight of the small smile that was sent his way. His heart leapt again at the sight of Harry waving him over. Pulling himself together, he motioned to Blaise and Pansy to follow him, and made his way over to where the two Gryffindor's sat.

"Hi, Harry." Pansy slipped into a chair at the side of Neville, smiling at the shy Gryffindor.

"Hey, Pansy. I didn't realise you were planning on studying this afternoon."

Pansy huffed and gave a pointed glare in Draco's direction. "I wasn't planning on it. However, someone wouldn't help me with my Potions homework."

"What she means, Potter, is that I wouldn't let her copy mine. I told you I'll help you, Pans, but I'm not doing the work for you." Draco drawled in response as he slid into a chair at the side of the green-eyed boy.

"Longbottom," he acknowledged.

Neville nodded at the blond before speaking. "Maybe you can help Harry with his too, Malfoy, he's been sat there for the last ten minutes staring into thin air to avoid starting it."

Draco shifted in his chair and spread his books out on the table. "Struggling with Potions, Potter? What's gone wrong? You were quite the teacher's pet sixth year, as I remember."

"Must be losing my touch, Malfoy."

"Well I guess I could share some of my knowledge with you, in the spirit of our new understanding."

"You're too kind, really."

Draco noticed at this point that not all of his friends had taken seats at the table, turning round, he spoke:

"For Merlin's sake, Blaise, would you just sit down? They're Gryffindor's; they won't bite you."

Blaise smirked at his friend and went to take seat the other side of Neville to Pansy. Harry, observant for once, didn't miss the quick sideways glance that he shot in Neville's direction or his muttered comment that maybe Gryffindor's didn't bite, but he might, if someone was lucky.

Pansy turned to the boy at her side and smiled, "Hi, I'm Pansy," she said shyly.

"Hi, Pansy, I'm Neville" came the equally shy reply.

"You know Draco, I'm sure, and this is Blaise." The boys acknowledged each other and Pansy sat back satisfied. "Maybe now that the rest of us are on first name terms, you two could manage to do the same?"

Draco could have leapt over the table right then and hugged her. He had only been complaining to her at lunch how unfair it was that she was on familiar terms with Potter, while he was still stuck in the formalities that sprang from their enmity.

"I'm sure we can manage that, just to keep you happy, Pansy – don't you think Harry?"

"Of course, Draco," Harry replied, smiling. "Though it might take a bit of getting used to."

Pansy winked at Blaise, satisfied at how smoothly her plan was going. She watched as Draco leaned over to Harry and began patiently explaining to him the properties of Abyssinian Shrivelfig and its various potion uses. Pansy found the topic supremely boring and she wondered, not for the first time, why she had allowed Draco to talk her into taking advanced Potions. But it seemed Harry did not share her opinion, as he was listening keenly to Draco's words, and she could have sworn that on a couple of occasions she saw his gaze drift to the blond's lips.

When the group finally left the library, tentative friendships intact, they went their separate ways. The Slytherins heading to the dungeons, while Harry and Neville made their way slowly back towards Gryffindor tower.

"So," Harry said, casting a sly glance at his friend, "Blaise seems nice."

Neville nodded noncommittally. "Yeah, they all seemed OK. Not what I expected at all." Now it was Neville's turn to fish, "You and Mal...Draco seemed to be getting on well, like old friends almost."

Harry's eyes brightened perceptibly. "He was brilliant, explaining all that Potions stuff. He actually made it sound interesting. If he was teaching the class, I'd get an O on my NEWTS for sure."

Neville suppressed a chuckle. "Yes, he's certainly an improvement on Snape or Slughorn."

Harry nodded in agreement as they approached the entrance to their common room.

"Golden Snitch," he offered to the Fat Lady, who smiled indulgently at him and opened the door.

As Harry entered the room he cast a quick look round for any sign of his friends. Seeing no sign of them, he heaved a sigh of relief and followed Neville over to where Seamus was sat by the fire.

He managed to make it halfway across the room before he found himself face to face with an angry looking Hermione Granger.

"Harry," she said, her tone sharp, and Harry felt his heart sink. "What's going on? Ginny's upstairs crying her eyes out. She says that you broke up with her and then went off with Pansy Parkinson of all people. And Parvati says you were hanging round with Malfoy too!" She virtually spat the last couple of words out. "She's really upset Harry; you said some awful things to her."

Stung by the injustice of his friend's accusations, Harry struggled to keep a grip on his temper before replying.

"Pansy and Draco have nothing to do with this, Hermione. Who I choose to hang around with is my business."

The bushy haired girl opened her mouth to speak at this point but Harry cut her off.

"I'm not done speaking, Hermione. As for Ginny, did she by any chance mention what she said to me? Did she happen to tell you that what she said was that her mum was so looking forward to having me as a son, how could I possibly disappoint her – never mind that I'm not in love with the girl? And that I owed it to her family to be with her since, basically, Fred died because of me. Did she tell you that? Or were the two of you too busy discussing what a bastard I am."

"Oh Harry." Hermione gasped and placed a hand on his arm. " I didn't realise. She just told me what you had said and I didn't know what else to think."

Harry shrugged her hand off his arm and looked at her, anger in his eyes. "I'll tell you what you could have thought. How about that you've known me for seven years and you know that I would never deliberately hurt someone. Or maybe that you should wait to hear both sides before making your little judgements. Or just maybe, Hermione, you should have thought that it was none of your damn business and you'd be best to stay the hell out of it."

Harry spun on his heel and stalked away from his friend, ignoring her pleas for him to listen and give her a chance to explain.

Heading up to his dormitory, he threw himself down on the bed, taking deep breaths to calm the anger he still felt. He was furious with Ginny, but to be honest, after her behaviour earlier, he wasn't that surprised. But he couldn't believe that Hermione had just taken her word for it; they'd been through so much together and Harry had thought they were as close as brother and sister. He couldn't rid himself of the sickening feeling of betrayal at his friend's lack faith in him.


	15. A Freak After All

Over the next few days, Harry's relationship with his oldest friends descended into, what could best be described as, a hostile ceasefire. Ginny blanked him at every turn, but also appeared to be spending her every spare moment regaling the younger Gryffindor girls with stories of Harry 'the bastard'.

Ron would barely make eye contact, except to glare. Harry was relieved that at least he didn't have to defend himself constantly against his friend's angry tirades about snakes, Death Eaters, and ungrateful friends. Harry suspected that Hermione's ears were bearing the brunt of Ron's barely suppressed anger instead.

It was hurtful, but Harry found himself adjusting to the behaviour of the two youngest Weasleys. They both had tempers to match their red hair and Harry had been on the receiving end of both of them on many occasions.

Only Hermione caused him to feel any real pangs of regret about the deterioration of their friendship. He would catch the bushy-haired girl's gaze on him from across the common room, her eyes full of confusion and, he suspected, guilt. After all, that was an emotion that Harry recognised all too easily, he saw it every time he looked in the mirror.

On a few occasions he had thought she was going to speak to him, but he suspected that she was a little nervous of her boyfriend's reaction, so kept her distance. Harry also supposed that she was a bit wary of what reception she would get, especially considering his outburst a few nights earlier.

On the positive side of things, his tentative friendship with his onetime enemies was growing daily. And Harry even caught himself wondering how different things would have been if he had just listened to the Sorting Hat back in first year, or even if he had accepted Draco's hand that day on the train like he had been tempted to do.

From a distance, Draco watched the disintegration of the Golden Trio. He tried so hard not to feel pleased, because he knew how much it must be hurting Harry, but he couldn't help the odd smirk – he was only human after all.

Then there were other times when he would catch a look on Harry's face that made him want to kill the Weasel for how he treated his best friend. Like the time that Harry sat next to him at Dinner and he just got up and moved further down the table, or the time in Potions when Harry had approached his usual seat only to be dismissed by the redhead. Draco could tell that the mudb...Granger was conflicted, but the desire to please her boyfriend always seemed to win out over loyalty to her friend.

Draco had been eternally grateful to Pansy that day in Potions. She had seen the hurt and confusion on Harry's face at being turned away by his supposed friends, and before Draco had even had to suggest it, she was on her feet, gently pulling Harry over to sit next to her. And that was where he had sat since, next to Pansy, behind Draco and Blaise. So close that sometimes Draco swore that he could feel the breath from the other boy's sighs ghosting across the back of his neck.

Pansy and Harry had become firm friends, so much so that Draco still marvelled at it, and if he was honest, felt slightly jealous. Not that he thought Pansy would ever make a move on Harry, but the ease with which they talked and laughed together pulled at Draco's heart.

He noticed that Harry spent more time with Longbottom and Finnigan (he was still struggling with this first name business) and was relieved to see that Harry still had good friends to look out for him in Gryffindor. Draco had revised his opinion of those two boys of late. Well, if he was honest it had started last year at school.

He had always thought Neville was weak and a coward, but he now harboured a grudging admiration for the way he had stood up to the Carrows last year, giving hope to the other students and refusing to cowed by almost overwhelming odds. Draco had been unable to reconcile the boy who stood up and defied Voldemort during the final battle, with the bumbling idiot from Potions class.

Finnigan, on the other hand, Draco had always thought was a bit of a slut. And probably even Seamus would agree that this was a fair assessment of his behaviour. He had been invited to a couple of Slytherin parties back in the sixth year, mainly because he had been screwing Blaise at the time. Draco had been too wrapped up in his secret mission that year to really pay any attention to what was going on around him. So, other than Blaise's pronouncement that the Irish boy was a 'good fuck'; Draco knew little else about him. Although he too had played a prominent role in the resistance to the Death Eater regime at Hogwarts.

However, now that he had his sights set on Harry Potter, Draco was making the effort to get to know his friends. And he was finding himself pleasantly surprised by what he discovered.

Neville proved to be a quiet, thoughtful boy. Who, Draco noted, blushed faintly every time Blaise was anywhere near. Finnigan was still a slut, this much Draco knew. But he also found the Irish boy to be easy going and, unbelievably, quite amusing at times too.

But what really warmed Draco to the two Gryffindors was the way that they had been willing to brave friendship with him and his friends, simply because Harry had done so, and they trusted Harry implicitly.

Harry was having nightmares again; they had started almost as soon as he had returned to Hogwarts. Only this time they weren't filled with Death Eaters and Voldemort, they were full of people he loved, who had died.

Every night when he went to sleep, he would listen to those he mourned tell him that it was all his fault they were dead. He dreamed of a grown up Teddy Lupin hunting him down for killing his parents. And Harry couldn't defend himself against their accusations, because deep down he blamed himself too. If he had just been a bit smarter, quicker, better – then he could have ended it all much sooner. He would wake up in a cold sweat; his bed sheets tangled around his shaking body, sobbing the only words he could manage, 'I'm sorry,' over and over again.

Sometimes it would take a couple of hours for him to calm down enough to fall back to sleep. Other nights he would just lay there, haunted by his memories until it was time to get up. He was permanently tired but he had managed to acquire a secret stash of Pepper Up potion, which carried him through the school day. A glamour on his face hid the more obvious signs of his exhaustion, allowing him to keep up the facade of being the 'Golden Boy'.

Every night he would religiously cast a Silencing Charm around his bed so as not to disturb his roommates. But when he woke, scared and alone, he wished that just one of them would wake and tell him it was ok. Sometimes, he was tempted to forget the Charm, to allow his cries to alert his friends to his distress. But a lifetime of depending on only himself caused Harry to bear the burden alone, like he always had.

On Friday night Harry woke from a particularly unpleasant dream. Not even wanting to try and go back to sleep, he slipped out of his bed, pulled on some clothes and decided to go for a night-time walk around the school. He delved into his trunk and retrieved the Map and his Cloak.

As he made his way out of Gryffindor tower, he ran his eyes over the map, making sure that Filch was nowhere around. The rest of the Wizarding world might treat Harry like he was a prince, but Filch held him in the same disregard that he did all the other pupils. Which, in a strange way, Harry found rather refreshing.

He couldn't help but flick his eyes to the Astronomy Tower in the vain hope that he might see Draco's name there again. Sadly he didn't, but what he did see made his heart leap in his mouth. Two dots, labelled Seamus Finnigan and Terry Boot were moving towards the Tower.

All Harry could think about were Pansy's words, 'rutting like dog's' she had put it. Before he knew what he was doing, he was heading for the Tower under the cover of his Invisibility Cloak. He had to know, to see for himself.

It was dark in the Astronomy Tower and neither of its occupants noticed when the door opened slightly, as if by itself. The only light was coming from the moon outside, which was streaming through the windows and illuminated the two boys.

Harry slipped into the room and had to cover his mouth with his hand to prevent the gasp that almost escaped him. Terry Boot was standing, his trousers round his ankles, while Seamus knelt in front of him. Harry slipped down against the wall silently, ensuring the Cloak was covering him. His eyes transfixed on the sight of Seamus' mouth wrapped around Terry Boot's hard cock. He could just make out how his friend's cheeks hollowed as he took that thick shaft deep in his mouth.

Harry could feel his own erection pressing hard against his trousers and instinctively reached his hand down to stroke it lightly through the fabric. He had always thought that gay sex was seedy and dirty, never had he imagined it could be as erotic as this.

When Terry Boot pulled Seamus over to a table and bent him over it, Harry thought he was going to cum in his pants. The sight of the Irish boy reaching behind and spreading his arse cheeks, while the other boy slowly inserted his fingers into the tight puckered opening, was almost too much for Harry.

Finally, as he watched Boot's thick cock penetrate his friend's arse, Harry's own hand slowly tugged down the zip on his trousers and freed his own erection. He ran his thumb over the head, smearing his pre-cum down his length. Then, wrapping his fingers round his throbbing shaft, he timed the strokes of his hand to the strokes that pounded into Seamus, and before long he was shooting his seed all over his hand.

No sooner had he cum than a feeling of horror swept over Harry. He had just watched his friend have sex, and worse still, he had gotten off on it. Trying to swallow the bile that threatened to rise in his throat, Harry quickly wiped his hand on his jumper and tucked his limp cock back in his trousers. Easing himself up of the floor, he headed towards the door without another glance at the two boys who were still busy fucking behind him. Once he was outside the Tower, he ran down the stairs and didn't stop until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

He crept into his dormitory and headed straight for the bathroom. He cast the strongest wards he could on the door and added a silencing charm for good measure. He stripped off his clothes as fast as his shaking hands would allow and then turned on the nearest shower.

Using his wand, he Transfigured his comb into a small scrubbing brush which he then took into the shower with him. Stepping under the hot water he began to scrub fiercely at his skin, as if to wash away his shame at what he had just done.

The water was almost scalding him, but Harry barely noticed. His uncle had been right about him all along, Harry decided. He was a freak, he must be. What normal person would do what he had just done? He deserved to be locked up for being some kind of pervert.

His skin was red raw by now, but Harry simply continued to scrub the imagined filth off his body. It was only when he noticed, with some satisfaction, that he had actually broken the skin and drawn blood, that he allowed himself to stop and turn off the shower.

He wrapped a towel cautiously around his waist and disposed of the clothing he had been wearing in the nearest bin. Heading back into the dorm-room, he noticed with relief that Seamus had still not returned. He slipped, naked, into his bed, feeling the sheets cool against his tender flesh. He lay there, unable to sleep, hot tears running down his cheeks.


	16. No Good To Me Dead

Harry didn't leave Gryffindor tower that weekend. In fact, he barely left his room. Kreacher had once again been pressed into service, bringing meals to the reclusive boy. Only this time it was at Neville's request rather than Harry's.

Neville was concerned about his friend. He could see the troubled look in Harry's eyes, but as much as he coaxed, Harry wouldn't budge. He lay in his bed with the sheets pulled up to his chin, dismissing Neville's concerns - claiming only to be tired.

Harry didn't want to get up and face people. He felt like they would take one look at him and just know. That they would finally see what his 'family' had told him all along, that he was a freak.

Plus the idea of being around Seamus just terrified him. It was hard enough that they shared a room, and even then Harry couldn't bring himself to look the other boy in the eye. And even if Harry had wanted to get up, the fact remained that his skin was still so raw in places that wearing actual clothes was very unpleasant.

Of course, he knew that come Monday he would be forced to leave his self-imposed exile. But until then, he remained, unmoveable, in his hermit like state.

* * *

Grey eyes stared fixedly at the door to the Great Hall. They widened slightly in anticipation every time the door opened but dropped again when no messy head of black hair appeared.

Draco Malfoy was worried, worried about someone other than himself and it felt strange. The slightly twisted sensation in his tummy had been gradually increasing over the weekend and by breakfast time on Monday he could barely force down his food.

"Draco, stop watching that door for Merlin's sake and eat your breakfast before Blaise steals it all."

The blonde snapped out of his reverie long enough to look down at the table, just in time to see sausages leaving his plate by way of his friend's fingers. A quick patented Malfoy glare and the food was swiftly returned along with a sheepish grin from the Italian boy."Sorry, Draco. I didn't think you'd mind; you weren't eating it after all."

"Blaise, there are plenty more in that dish over there. Why must you persist with eating off my plate? I don't care how endearing you thing it is, it's simply annoying." Draco finished with a distinctly snappish tone to his voice.

He let out a sigh and the scowl left his face instantly.

"Where is he, Pansy," he whined. "Something's wrong, I just know it."

"You heard what Neville said, sweetie. He's just been feeling run down and was taking it easy this weekend."

Draco sniffed at this. "Longbottom doesn't believe that any more than I do."

He turned back to his food and speared a sausage with his fork; it made it halfway to his mouth before it came to an abrupt halt. Draco turned horrified eyes to the dark-haired girl at his side.

"What if he's changed his mind, Pansy? What if he's decided he does still hate me after all? What if he's just been avoiding me?"

Pansy could have sworn she saw the slightest quiver of the blond boy's bottom lip as he finished speaking. But before she could soothe him, a snort came from Blaise's direction.

"Overreacting much, Draco?"

"It could be true," Draco replied defensively. "You don't know."

Blaise rolled his chocolate-brown eyes at his friend's melodramatics.

"Oh please, Draco; this is Harry Potter we are talking about. The boy is so noble it's just unnatural. I think you're stuck with him now."

Blaise's words were somewhat muffled by the mouthful of bacon he was consuming at the same time. Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust at his friend's lack of table manners.

"Blaise, must we be forced to witness the digestion of your breakfast every morning? You have the eating habits of a troll."

However, Draco couldn't suppress a little smile at his friend's words. Deep down he knew that Blaise was right. Even during their years of conflict, Draco had seen the basic decency that lay within Harry.

"Draco, either put that sausage in your mouth or put it back on your plate."

The boy hadn't even realised he was still holding his fork midway between his mouth and plate. He opened his mouth and took a large bite, before shooting a look at Pansy that said 'happy now?'

"That's my, Draco," Blaise purred. "Never happier than when he has a big sausage in his mouth."

Draco flushed at the double meaning in his friend's words. "Really, Blaise, must you be so vulgar," he huffed.

Pansy laughed at her two friends and then stood up from the table. The other two turned questioning gazes to her.

"Come on, you two! When you're quite finished, we have double potions to get to."

Draco pouted at this. "But Pansy..."

"But nothing, Draco. Harry might have missed breakfast but you know he won't miss lessons. The sooner you get off your arse, the sooner you will see him again."

The truth in this statement had him scrambling off the bench, pausing only to grab some fruit.

Blaise quirked an eyebrow at this, "Eating healthy today, Draco?"

"It's not for me, you fool. Harry's missed breakfast, he needs to eat something."

Draco explained this slowly to his friend as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be worrying about Harry Potter's appetite. Then he quickly turned away before his friends could see the pink flush that stained his pale cheeks.

A sharp nudge from Pansy caused Blaise to bite back the taunt that had been on the tip of his tongue. Instead, they simply followed the blond as he stalked out of the Great Hall.

When Harry had finally managed to drag his unwilling body out of bed, he had made straight for the dungeons. He was still not entirely convinced that people wouldn't know that he was a deviant just by looking at him.

He slumped in his chair at the table he shared with Pansy. He kept his eyes firmly glued to the desk top, willing himself not to look up at the sound of approaching feet. As a result, he was extremely surprised to see an apple and a banana appear on the table in front of him. He looked up, surprised, and met the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"What's that?" he asked, confused.

"I believe that is what most people call food, Harry. They eat it to stay alive. I suggest you do the same, you're no good to me dead!"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I can't see that I'm much good to you alive."

Draco rolled his eyes at him. "Of course you can't, Potter. You always were oblivious."

Confused, Harry took up the banana and slowly peeled it. As he slid the soft flesh between his lips, Blaise's eyes widened at the unintentional innuendo in his actions.

"Very seductive, Harry," he purred.

Harry looked confused for a moment but then had a brief flashback to Seamus' hollowed cheeks, and a flush spread over his face. Draco glared daggers at Blaise, and Pansy smirked. Before any of the friends could speak, Professor Slughorn had entered the room and they all turned to pay attention.

With Draco's help, and without Snape's hindrance, Harry found that he was really beginning to enjoy potions. He had learned that the Slytherins took their work very seriously, so there was no real opportunity to be distracted.

Harry couldn't help but notice how differently he perceived things from the Slytherin side of the classroom. As Slughorn began firing questions at the class about the theory behind Calming Draughts, he felt, for the first time, an irritation at the way Hermione's hand always shot into the air before the question was even finished. Harry wondered why Draco never volunteered an answer anymore, when he was obviously as knowledgeable, if not more so than the keen Gryffindor girl, when it came to Potions.

It seemed that Harry was not the only one irked by Hermione's eagerness to over achieve.

"OK, so who can explain the benefits of using Schizandra root in a Calming Draught?"

As Harry expected, Hermione's hand was high in the air and was waving around in a desperate attempt to draw the Professor's attention her way. He was pleased when he heard Slughorn's next words.

"Ah yes, Miss Granger, I expect you do know the answer. I think, however, that we will let one of your other classmates have a chance to shine."

Harry didn't have to look to know that the girl was blushing fiercely.

"How about... Mr Malfoy, could you explain the benefits of Schizandra root?"

Harry noticed Draco stiffen as the attention of the whole class was drawn to him, and he realised then why the boy never raised his hand. However, Draco was a Malfoy and he wasn't about to show fear in front of the other students. He looked steadily at his teacher, his chin thrust forward slightly.

"It improves the body's response to stress, enabling it to cope at an increased level."

Harry noticed that as he paused he took a deep breath and some of the tension left his body as he continued to speak.

"It is thought to calm the heart and quieten the spirit, Sir, and because of this it is excellent for the treatment of irritability, palpitations, dream disturbed sleep, and insomnia."

Professor Slughorn beamed at his student and Harry was surprised to see a teacher display such approval for a Slytherin. Not that he thought they shouldn't, just that they didn't and with the exception of Snape, Harry couldn't remember when they ever had. Then he remembered that Slughorn was Head of Slytherin. He would, of course, be looking to the best interests of his students and this explained why he had taken the trouble with Draco when most other teachers just left him to his silent study.

"Well done, Mr Malfoy, a most illustrative answer. That will be 10 points to Slytherin, I think."

A long hiss sounded at this from the other side of the room, and Harry knew with certainty where it had come from. Not for the first time, he wanted to go over and shake some sense into Ron, and when he noticed the slump of Draco's shoulders, he thought he might like to hit the redhead also.

"Ah, it would appear that we have a snake in the room. Perhaps, Mr Potter, you would be so good as to translate for our serpent friend?"

Harry gave his teacher a genuine smile and a gentle ripple of laughter echoed in the class. Professor Slughorn allowed them a moment, watching with a genial smile on his face. Once silence was restored, the smile was replaced by a far more serious expression.

"That will be 20 points from Gryffindor, Mr Weasley. I do not tolerate such infantile behaviour from the first years, let alone the Head Boy."

Harry looked over in time to see Ron flush and Hermione nudge him sharply as a reminder to stay silent.

Seeing that he had made his point, Slughorn flicked his wand in the direction of the board.

"You will work in pairs for this assignment; these are the instructions for this potion, please follow them carefully. "

Harry went to fetch the ingredients for the potion whilst Pansy set up their cauldron. Half an hour later and their potion was well under way. If Harry missed the Half Blood Prince's tips occasionally, murmured suggestions from the blond boy in front, more than made up for it.

As Harry was busy chopping up the Senega root and Pansy was carefully adding the required amount of rain water (collected during a full moon, of course) Professor Slughorn ambled over to their desk to inspect their progress. As he stood at the side of Pansy, Harry could see the girl tense at his closeness. Before he had time to process this, or to even decide what to do about it, there was a loud sound of shattering glass.

Pansy just stood there, her face ghostly white, blood dripping from her hand that still held the remains of the shattered glass beaker. Instinctively, Harry reached out to take hold of her hand and inspect the damage. There was a deep jagged cut running across her palm; it looked painful but Pansy was showing no real sign of discomfort. Harry found it rather unnerving the way she just watched the blood as it poured from the open wound.

Draco and Blaise were both on their feet a second later, closing round Pansy, shielding her from the curiosity of their classmates. Draco's hand rubbed soothing circles on her back as he whispered words that Harry couldn't quite make out.

"Professor, I think Pansy needs to go to the Hospital wing. It's quite a deep cut."

Harry's voice brought Slughorn back to his responsibilities.

"Yes, yes, Mr Potter. You are quite right. Perhaps you would escort her there."

Harry nodded, of course he would. Something about the look in Pansy's eyes made him nervous and curious all at the same time. After he had pressed a cloth to the wound, stemming the flow of blood, he led the ashen girl from the dungeons and trod a path he knew only too well.

Madam Pomfrey's eyes narrowed the second she saw Harry enter the Hospital wing. Then she noticed the bloodied cloth wrapped around Pansy's hand and she bustled over to them. She peeled back the cloth and took a good look at the cut.

"It's not too serious, I'll just get it cleaned and then I'll have you healed up, good as new."

She led Pansy over towards a bed and gestured to her to sit on it. Harry watched as Madam Pomfrey got to work, cleaning the wound of glass fragments before casting a healing spell, knitting the skin back together.

"There you are, dear, all done. You'd never even know it had been there."

The kindly matron smiled at the younger girl, who had a look of almost sadness on her face as she inspected her unblemished palm.

Harry perched on the bed at the side of his friend. "Are you OK, Pansy?" he asked, concerned.

She turned her head slowly to look at him and nodded. "I'm fine. I just don't like the sight of blood much."

Harry could tell that it was a lie, but as he had no idea what the truth was, he had to let it go. He had enough secrets of his own and knew how it felt when well-meaning people poked their noses in. He had no intention of turning into either Hermione or Mrs Weasley anytime soon.

Madam Pomfrey handed them both a large chunk of chocolate, for the shock she explained, and then sent them on their way. A quick look at his watch told Harry that Potions would be over by now, so the two friends made their way to Transfiguration.

Over the next few days Neville Longbottom watched Harry closely. Or rather, he watched Draco Malfoy as he watched Harry closely. The first time he had noticed, Neville had been rather shocked to see the concern on the blond Slytherins face, but after a few days of observation, it all made sense. Draco cared about Harry. In fact, Neville would have bet his collection of chocolate frog cards that Malfoy was in love with Harry.

Neville couldn't help thinking that it was only fitting, after seven years of bitter rivalry, that these two boys should end up together. There was a very fine line between love and hate and it seemed to Neville that Draco had already crossed it, all that was left to find out now was where Harry stood.

Neville had his suspicions, but didn't know for sure that Harry was gay. He rather thought that he was, but that he was either in denial or oblivious to his preferences. Harry had never really had the chance to grow and develop like most teenagers. The war had forced him to grow old before his time in some ways, and yet in others it had kept him surprisingly immature.

Neville thought that Harry deserved to be happy more than anyone else he knew and for some reason he had a feeling that Draco could be just the person to do it for him. If you had asked him to explain that, Neville would have struggled; it was more of a gut instinct than based on facts.

And of course, Neville thought to himself, it wouldn't hurt if Harry got closer to Draco, not if it meant that he got to spend more time with Blaise.

Thursday was Hermione's birthday, and despite the tension that had replaced their friendship, Harry could not bring himself to ignore the day. He had bought her present some months ago; as soon as he had seen it, it had just screamed Hermione. It was a leather bound, limited edition copy of 'Hogwarts – A History'.

He got up early on Thursday morning and quietly made his way down to where Hermione and Ron's private rooms were. He placed the present on the floor just outside the door and turned around to leave. He had got only a couple of steps when he heard the door open.

"Harry," she called to him softly.

He turned round to find her hugging the present to her chest. He walked slowly back to her and gave a weak smile.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione."

The girl flushed and Harry suspected she was as uncomfortable with the situation as he was. He watched as she slowly removed the wrapping paper and felt rewarded when he saw the look of joy in her eyes.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered. "It's beautiful."

Before he realised it, Harry found himself enveloped in a tight hug, bushy hair tickling his nose. Just for a moment he could forget everything that had happened in the last three weeks and just enjoy the closeness. He realised it wasn't real though, and when he pulled back from the embrace and saw her eyes flit nervously to Ron's door, Harry knew it was time to go.

He walked away from her, determined not to look back, and felt a tiny piece of his heart break at the same time.

He made his way down to the Great Hall and slumped dejectedly into his seat. So wrapped up was he in his own misery that he hadn't noticed he had sat opposite Seamus. It wasn't until he felt the Irish boy's gaze on him that he realised his mistake. Seamus was looking at him expectantly.

"So what do you think, Harry? It'll be good fun, I reckon. They usually are."

Confused, Harry asked, "Sorry, I wasn't really listening, what are you on about?"

Seamus looked at Neville and rolled his eyes. "You tell him, Nev."

Harry turned to Neville expectantly, glad for the chance to look away from Seamus.

"I ran into Pansy on the way in here this morning. She invited us to a party in the Slytherin common room on Saturday night. Seamus has been to a few before and apparently they are quite good. I thought it might be fun to go."

Harry was torn; on the one hand he really wanted to go to the party. He was aware he had led a sheltered life for an 18 year old and was eager to have a little more fun. But on the other hand he couldn't help but remember Pansy's comment about things that went on in the Slytherin common room, and that made him nervous.

Harry watched as Neville's eyes strayed over to the Slytherin table and he saw Blaise look up and smile back at him. He knew at that moment that he would say yes. Neville wouldn't go if Harry didn't, and Harry would feel far too guilty if Neville had to miss his chance with Blaise because of his hang-ups.

"Yeah, it sounds great," he replied, trying desperately to sound like he meant Neville noticed that Harry's tone did not match his words, but even he was so caught up in the prospect of a night with a certain Italian boy that he suppressed his concerns.

Later that evening, when all the other Gryffindor's were in the common room celebrating Hermione's birthday, Harry snuck up to his room.

Deciding to get some homework done, he dug into his schoolbag, searching for an elusive quill. As he rummaged deeper, he felt a sharp jolt of pain in his thumb. Pulling his hand out of the bag, he noticed that there was a small cut that was beginning to bleed. He put his injured thumb into his mouth and sucked whilst he used his other hand to upend the contents of his bag onto his bed and began sift through them in search of whatever had caused the damage.

He found it after a few moments; it was a fairly large shard of glass. He realised it must have fallen in there when Pansy had broken the beaker in potions.

He got up to throw it in the bin, but something stopped him. He sat back down on his bed and all he could think about was the look on Pansy's face as she had watched the blood pour out of her wound.

Then he thought back to Friday night and how he had felt after scrubbing his skin raw. And before he could process fully what he was doing, Harry had rolled back the sleeve of his shirt and was slowly pressing the sharp edge against his skin.

As he saw the first droplets of blood ooze out from the cut, Harry watched with grim satisfaction. He pressed harder, knowing that he deserved the sharp pain that was coursing up his arm. Blood was running down his arm now and Harry felt a strange sense of calm descend over him. It felt like everything he had bottled up inside was being released through this one wound. It finally made his pain seem real, because now he could actually see that he was hurting.

Taking a deep breath, Harry pressed the glass to his arm once more.


	17. You're Beautiful

Friday morning found Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, idly pushing his breakfast around his plate. He'd only been up for half an hour but already the day was turning out to be a strange one.

It had started with a tentative smile from Hermione, which he had returned before he was able to process what he was doing. It was then followed up by a curt nod from Ron which, after almost two weeks of being ignored, was like a hug to the green-eyed boy.

Harry tried to suppress the feeling of hope that these two actions caused to rise within in his fragile spirit; hope just left you open to hurt and disappointment.

He had taken his now usual seat next to Neville, and after listening to the enthusiastic discussion that Neville and Seamus were having, he told himself that the day couldn't get any more bizarre.

His two friends were deep in discussion about clothes and hair styles! Harry found himself doing a quick double take to make sure he hadn't sat next to Lavender and Parvati by mistake. He looked over at Dean and found that he was also watching the other two with a bemused look on his face. Dean caught his look and gave a helpless sort of shrug and rolled his eyes at their friends.

Harry then let his gaze wander round the hall, anything to avoid the conversation going on around him, his eyes coming to rest on the Slytherin table.

Blaise and Pansy were caught up in some deep discussion while Draco sat to the side of them talking seriously with Theodore Nott. Harry watched the blond boy intently, marvelling, not for the first time, that they were friends. He had seen a whole different side of Draco in the last three weeks and Harry found himself wanting to know more and more about his ex rival. There were many things that Harry wanted to ask him, tell him, but he wasn't sure if their fledgling friendship was ready for that yet and he didn't want to scare him off.

He watched as Draco's long fingers swept through the blond curtain of his hair in frustration, a flush on his cheeks.

Harry was dragged from his thoughts by a hand being waved in front of his face and he looked back at his friends to find Seamus grinning at him.

"Thought we'd lost you for a minute then, Harry. Are we boring you?"

Harry smiled at his friends. "No, I was just thinking is all."

Neville looked in the direction Harry had been gazing and, seeing the blond head of Draco Malfoy, he smiled secretly to himself.

"We were just discussing the party tomorrow night, Harry. Have you decided what you're going to wear yet?"

Harry shrugged. "I haven't really given it a thought. Just whatever I grab first, I suppose."

Both of his friends were looking horrified at him now and Harry glared back defiantly.

"What? It's not like I have anything nice to wear anyway. so why bother worrying about it."

"But, Harry, this is a Slytherin party, you have to dress up. You know how important appearances are to them; you don't want them to take offence."

"Yeah, well like I said, I don't' have anything nice to wear and it's too late to go shopping, so they will just have to take me as I come." Harry closed his lips into a thin line and gave his friends a look which indicated clearly that the conversation was over. Harry had dismissed the conversation, telling himself that his new friends wouldn't care what he wore, just that he was there.

This thought kept him happy for a few hours. But by the time he slumped into his seat next to Pansy in Charms, which was last lesson of the day, he was worried. He had been asked by no less than four separate people about his planned outfit, including Draco himself. Harry had looked at the blond Slytherin, taken in his immaculate appearance with a sinking feeling, and realised that he needed help.

Pansy smiled as she turned to look at Harry, taking in his dejected posture. Draco had already told her about his earlier conversation with the dark-haired Gryffindor, and Pansy had followed this up with a few discreet questions to Seamus and Neville. Pansy loved clothes and if there was one thing she loved almost as much as dressing herself up, it was dressing someone else up. And as she ran her eyes over Harry, she decided he was ripe for a makeover.Harry turned to Pansy, caught the almost fanatical gleam in her eyes, and put himself completely in her hands.Which was why, later that evening, Harry found himself holed up in the Slytherin boys dorms with Pansy and Millicent, having been given free rein on both Draco and Blaise's wardrobes.

Harry vetoed most of the girls more outrageous suggestions. Most of which, he noted, seemed to come from Blaise's belongings, including a rather tight pair of black dragon hide trousers. In the end they reached agreement on a pair of dark blue jeans, that clung to Harry in all the right places, or so Millicent had declared much to Harry's embarrassment.

The top had been harder to choose, mainly due to Harry's refusal to consider anything with short sleeves. However, they had finally opted for a green silk shirt which was semi fitted, so managed to cling to Harry's torso in ways that Pansy knew wouldn't go unappreciated by Draco.

The outfit was then completed with a silver dragon hide belt and black leather boots. Harry had protested at this point that he had his own shoes, but had been told by the girls in no uncertain terms that if he even considered wearing his functional school shoes with their creation, well, he would be in trouble!! Harry had relented at this, wisely deciding that further objection would be futile.

He was dismissed back to Gryffindor Tower with instructions to wear exactly what they had picked, without exception, and to do something with his hair 'for the love of Merlin'. This last had been Pansy and Harry stuck his tongue out at the girl before hurrying out of the common room to avoid any retaliation.Draco sat at breakfast on Saturday morning, his eyes fixed discreetly on the Gryffindor table, watching for Harry.

Although wild Hippogriffs wouldn't drag it out of him, Draco was concerned about Harry. He had seen how hurt the other boy had been when his oldest friends appeared to desert him. So he was not at all pleased to spot a familiar red-head slip into the seat opposite Harry.

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched the two Gryffindors. Again, he would never admit it but Draco was worried that one day Harry's old friends would welcome him back and Harry would have no use for Draco anymore.

"Draco, if you don't stop squinting at the Gryffindor table like that, you're going to get little lines round your eyes."

He reluctantly tore his gaze away from the object of his concern and turned a withering look on his friend.

Blaise nudged him. "So, are you nervous about tonight?"

"Why on earth would I be nervous, Blaise? It's just a party; we have them all the time."

"Yes, that's true," the Italian boy admitted. "But you weren't in love with Harry Potter and desperate to seduce him at any of the others."

"Perhaps you'd like to say that a little louder, Blaise. I don't think the Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest quite caught it." Draco fixed his friend with baleful glare.

Pansy placed a soothing hand on Draco's arm, "Blaise, stop teasing. Draco, sweetie, it's OK to be a little nervous, it's a big night for you."

Draco turned his glare to the dark-haired girl. "I told you, I'm not nervous."

"Of course you're not," she replied with a condescending pat on his arm. "Just remember I expect both of you in the common room this afternoon to help me set up."

"But, Pansy," Draco pouted, "I need to start getting ready then."

Pansy smiled at her vain friend. "Not even someone as narcissistic as you need that long to get ready. Besides, you're gorgeous as you are."

Draco's scowl softened at the compliment. "I'm sure there was an insult in there though," he murmured in an aside to Blaise. However, deciding to let it go, he turned back to the smirking girl.

"So what are you planning to get up to this morning, Pans?"

"I have two feet to write for Charms so I'll be in the library."

Draco's eyes lit up at this. "Will Harry be there?"

Pansy shook her head, smiling at the blondes eagerness. "No, he has Quidditch practice. Theo's coming with me."

Draco's head turned again to scowl in the direction of the Gryffindor table. "I suppose that's what he's talking to the Weasel about. Though I don't know how he can stand to talk to that git after the way he's treated him. I'd hex him into the middle of next week if Harry would let me."

"Protective much?" Blaise smirked at his friend.

"You have a problem with that, Blaise?"

Dark curls bobbed wildly as Blaise shook his head. "Not at all, in fact I was just thinking of suggesting that we take a walk down to the Quidditch pitch this morning. Just to check out the competition of course."

Draco smirked knowingly at his friend. "Very subtle, Blaise. I'm sure that this has nothing to do with a certain other Gryffindor who will no doubt be there as well?"

Blaise looked at the blond boy, an expression of feigned innocence on his face. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. You're the one with the lion obsession, not me," he wound up with an injured air.

Draco merely smiled a knowing smile, which irritated his friend no end.Harry hadn't felt as relaxed in weeks as he circled the Quidditch pitch observing his team mates practising hard.

Ron had surprised him at breakfast by sitting with him and actually initiating a conversation. They hadn't made any real steps towards friendship again, but they could at least co-exist in civility now, which certainly made for an easier team practice.

Ginny was still a problem but Harry noticed that Ron seemed to be keeping the worst of her outbursts under control. Several rather heated exchanges took place between brother and sister, and Harry was relieved that he didn't have to deal with the angry girl himself.

As he circled the pitch once more, he noticed with surprise that Blaise and Draco were sat in the stands watching with Seamus and Neville. He looked round nervously to see if Ron had noticed and was relieved to see that the redhead was engaged in another spat with his sister.

Harry noticed with a smile how friendly Blaise and Neville seemed to be. He was less impressed when he saw how close Seamus was sitting to Draco. Unable to explain the sudden tightness in his chest, and the urge to knock the nearest bludger at the Irish boy, Harry shrugged it off and turned his attention back to the practice.The two Slytherin boys made their excuses and left shortly before the practice was over. Draco, in particular, was relieved to get away from Seamus who had been overtly attentive to him that morning.

Blaise noticed his discomfort and grinned at his friend. "You really shouldn't take any notice of Finnigan, you know. He just sees you as a challenge cos you've never been interested in him. You know how he can't keep it in his pants."

Draco huffed at this. "Well, he had better keep it in his pants tonight or he might find himself without it. As if I'd want to go with someone who has been ridden more times than the Hogwarts Express."

"That and the fact that you're hopelessly in love with the Gryffindor Golden Boy himself." Blaise thought for a moment before adding. "Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to play with Finnigan for a while, it might be a good way to see how Harry reacts. I mean, we still don't actually know if he's gay or not yet."

Draco looked at his friend coldly. "If that is all you have to contribute, then I suggest you don't bother. I hardly think that the way to win Potter round is by sleeping with his slut of a roommate. You know how outrageously noble the boy is, he would probably see being with me as a betrayal of his friend."

Blaise shrugged. "I guess so, I was just trying to be helpful."

He got a look from Draco in return that clearly said 'don't'. The boys walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall in silence.Draco looked round the common room and had to admit to himself that Pansy and the other girls had done a good job. He and Blaise had managed to remain conspicuously absent all afternoon and Pansy was still on the warpath.

It was 9'o clock and all the younger years had been banished to their dormitories, kept there by threats of unknown consequences from Draco, which chilled even the strongest Slytherin to the bone. Even though the war was over and Draco had mellowed in character, he still cut a very formidable figure in Slytherin house, and was respected and feared in equal part by his housemates.

Draco had opted for a pair of simple, yet elegant, black dress trousers. He was well aware of how they clung to his arse, giving hints of the toned muscles beneath the fabric. He had teamed this with a soft grey thin-knit cashmere sweater that hugged his body and made his eyes seem to glow silver.

Blaise had opted to wear the Dragon Hide trousers that had put the fear of God into Harry. He had teamed them with a sinfully tight black mesh top that allowed a perfect view of his muscular body. Even Draco caught himself casting an admiring glance over his friend as they waited for their guests to arrive.

Draco grabbed himself a butterbeer and turned to hand one to Blaise. As he did so he found himself face to face with an irate looking Pansy.

"Pansy, dear," he drawled, "You look beautiful."

The girl smiled at the compliment but then remembered her earlier irritation.

"Don't think you can sweet talk yourself out of this, Draco. I am seriously pissed at you right now. This party was for your benefit and yet somehow you managed to avoid doing any work towards it."

Draco gave her a winning smile. "But, Pansy, darling, you know how much I appreciate all your hard work. You have done a much better job than I ever could have."

Pansy simply huffed and turned away to greet Morag McDougall and Su Li from Ravenclaw, who had just arrived.

Draco sat slumped on one of the soft leather sofas; it was already 9.30 and Harry had still not shown up yet. What was the point of going to all this effort when the reason for the party doesn't show? Not, Draco reflected, that Harry knew he was the reason for the party. Somehow he thought that telling the green-eyed boy that he was throwing a party so he could seduce him, might have scared the younger boy off.

So lost was he in his sulking that he didn't notice anyone approaching him until they spoke.

"You're not much of a host are you, Malfoy? Aren't you supposed to welcome your guests, not hide in a corner so they have to come looking for you?"

Draco snapped out of his reverie instantly and turned to find himself confronted with the object of his musings. Harry Potter was standing in front of him looking, well, quite frankly, stunning. Draco scrambled to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster.

"My apologies, Potter. Can I get you a drink?"

Harry nodded and followed the blond boy to the drinks table, unable to stop himself from sneaking a quick look at the other boy's arse clad in temptingly tight trousers.

"Butterbeer, or would you prefer something stronger?"

Sensing the challenge in the other boys tone, Harry couldn't back down.

"I'll have whatever you're having." And then watched with some dismay as Draco proceeded to pour them both rather large glasses of Firewhisky.

"You scrubbed up well, Harry." Draco's eyes ran appraisingly over Harry's body. "You look almost as good in those clothes as I do!"

Harry blushed under the other boy's scrutiny, but found that he did not mind as much as he had thought he would. "You don't look so bad yourself, Draco."

And Harry realised that he meant this; the way that jumper fit so snugly to Draco, he couldn't help but wonder what the body beneath it looked like. Preferably naked and spread out underneath me, Harry thought before he could stop himself. Instantly horrified that he was checking out Malfoy of all people, he mentally slapped himself. But all the same, he couldn't get rid of a little voice in his ear that kept reminding him of just how attractive the other boy was.

Draco was reluctantly pulled away from Harry by Pansy, who insisted that, as he had given no help beforehand, he was to help her welcome guests, get drinks and make small talk. And once he had performed his duties as she saw fit, she might then relent and allow him to return to the object of his affection.

Harry watched with a tightening in his chest as Draco chatted with Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot. Both Hufflepuffs were very attentive to the blond Slytherin. Harry couldn't hear what was said, but they were both giggling at Draco, and flirting too in Harry's opinion. Why this should bother him, Harry wasn't quite sure, but it did nonetheless.

He stumped back over to the drinks table where he bumped into Neville. It seemed that Blaise, too, was being kept similarly occupied by Pansy.

Harry found Neville looking dubiously at the punch bowl which was full of some bright red liquid that appeared to be bubbling and smoking. Obviously deciding to risk it, Neville filled his glass and then turned to Harry.

"I'm not sure what it is, but Blaise recommended it. Do you want one?"

"Sure why not." Harry shrugged, aware that there was a very good reason why not. After having had only two of Draco's measures of Firewhisky, Harry was already feeling a little light-headed and knew it wouldn't take much more to tip him over the edge into being just plain drunk. However, he just took the glass full of the toxic looking drink and took a deep gulp.

Neville shuffled nervously at the side of him and Harry could tell that he was trying to work up the courage to tell him something. He noticed Blaise giving Neville an encouraging nod and smiles from across the room and suddenly realised what it was that Neville was struggling with.

"Harry, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. I'm... that is, I like...um, the thing is Harry..."

Harry took pity on his friend and he stumbled over his words, "It's OK, Neville, I already know that you're gay."

Neville stared at Harry, eyes wide like saucers. "You know? And you don't mind?"

"It was pretty obvious, Nev, the way you and Blaise have been making eyes at each other for the last two weeks. And no, I don't mind, why would I?"

Harry smiled at his friend who was still too stunned to form proper sentences and decided that Neville deserved the same level of honesty in return. Screwing up every last ounce of his Gryffindor courage, Harry took a deep gulp of his drink before speaking again.

"Besides, it would make me a bit of a hypocrite if I objected to your liking boys. Especially as it turns out that I do too." Harry bit nervously on his bottom lip, his eyes firmly on Neville's face, needing to see his reaction.

He was relieved when the other boy broke out in a big grin. "You know, I always did wonder about you, Harry. You might want to keep this quiet from Seamus, the first sniff that you like boys and he will be all over you like Devils Snare."

Harry laughed at this and felt a wave of relief sweep over him at having been honest, not only with Neville, but with himself too. He didn't think anything bad about Neville for liking boys, so why should he think those things about himself.

Blaise came over to the two boys at this point and dragged a blushing Neville off to dance. Harry refilled his glass and then made his way over to the seating area, slumping onto the same sofa he had found Draco on earlier.

He watched Blaise and Neville as they took to the dance floor, their bodies pressed tight against each other. He couldn't tear his eyes away as Blaise's hands slipped under Neville's shirt and he captured the Gryffindor's lips with his own.

"Hot, isn't it?"

Harry turned, embarrassed to have been caught starting. He found Pansy grinning back at him.

"What?"

"Blaise and Longbottom. I mean, it's like they're having sex, only they're fully clothed and upright."

"It doesn't bother you?" Harry enquired.

"Bother me? I think it's hot." She leaned in closer to him at this point, "I'll tell you a secret, Harry. One night in the fifth year, I caught Blaise and Draco together in this very room. And instead of leaving, I sat down and watched them!"

"They didn't mind?" Harry asked, his mind spinning.

"They didn't know. I don't think Blaise would have minded, but Draco's a very private person. I think he would have had a fit if he knew, but I just couldn't not look; it was beautiful."

Harry shook his head in wonder; these Slytherins never ceased to amaze him. Here was Pansy freely admitting to doing something that Harry had been punishing himself for days for doing.

Pansy stood up at this point. "I'd better go and rescue Draco. Your Irish friend is coming on to him again."

Harry turned round just in time to see Seamus run his hand down Draco's arm, and he felt the long-dead monster in his chest stir. "Isn't he interested then?" he asked, desperately trying to keep the note of hope out of his voice.

Pansy snorted. "Draco's far choosier about who he sleeps with. He'd never go for a slut like Finnigan."

Pansy turned and hurried over to where an increasingly tense looking Draco was trying to extricate himself from the Irish boy's advances.

Harry tried to stand up but found that the room had begun to move as soon as he tried. A faint wave of nausea swept over him, so he resigned himself to staying put. He rested his drink on the nearby table and stretched out on the sofa, telling himself he would just close his eyes for a second, just till he felt better.

Harry felt like he had barely closed his eyes when a voice invaded his subconscious.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty."

Harry peeled his eyes open and found himself face to face with Draco, who was crouched at his side, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Wuzgoing on?" he mumbled sleepily.

"You're hogging that sofa, Potter, that's what's going on. Now shift your head and let me sit."

Harry struggled to raise his head up off the sofa, his arms shaking slightly in their efforts to support him. No sooner had Draco gracefully sat on the vacated seat, than Harry's arms gave way and he found his head in Draco's lap. He made a feeble effort to move, but a hand on his shoulder stilled his efforts.

"You're drunk, Potter," Draco drawled, barely able to conceal his joy at having Harry Potter's head in his lap.

"'M not drunk, Malfoy, you're drunk."

Draco laughed a low chuckle which sent shivers along Harry's spine. "Whatever you say, Harry."

"You two look comfy!"

Harry squinted out of his eyes to see Pansy settling down in a chair opposite them, just as Blaise slumped in another chair, pulling Neville down onto his lap.

"We're very comfortable, aren't we, Potter"

Harry felt fingers rake gently through his hair at this, and it was all he could do to nod in agreement with Draco's words. He closed his eyes again and snuggled closer to the warm body, revelling in the other boy's touch.

Harry just lay there, his whole focus on the body beneath him. He wasn't sure quite when it had happened, but it was very clear to him now that he fancied Draco Malfoy. If nothing else, then the tightening in his trousers was certainly telling him it was true. And unless he was much mistaken, there was a definite hardness in Draco's pants too. Now that was a revelation to Harry. It was one thing to think that he fancied the blond boy, but to think that the feeling might just be mutual, blew Harry away.

Harry allowed one of his hands to rest on Draco's thigh and began making tiny circles with his fingers. He felt the body underneath him tense initially, but then a sigh was let out and the other boy relaxed into Harry's touch.

Harry rolled over so that his face was now pressed up against Draco's stomach. He burrowed his head against the soft fabric of the other boy's jumper.

"Mmm, you're soft," he murmured sleepily.

Just as he drifted off to sleep again, he felt cool fingers ghost across his face, sweeping his messy hair out of his eyes and could have sworn he heard a voice murmur:

"And you're beautiful."


	18. Waking Up

Harry knelt at the water's edge, looking out over the vast dark lake. Overcome by thirst, he dipped his hands in and scooped up the cool liquid, lapping at it desperately. Before the ripples had time to melt away, the glass like surface of the water was no more, replaced by a churning swell that caused an ice chill to take hold of Harry's heart.

He knew what was coming next but that knowledge did nothing to lessen his terror. Slimy white hands emerged from the depths followed by emaciated bodies. Harry didn't need to look in their faces, to see their sunken eyes, to know that these weren't just faceless dead bodies. Hands reached out grasping at his wrists and ankles, otherworldly voices called his name, beckoning him to join them in their watery grave.

Harry scrabbled desperately to get away from them, kicking and punching, all the while begging and pleading with them to let him go. But there was no escape; he felt his strength wane and he began to succumb to the grim embrace of the deathly arms that encircled him. As they dragged him under the surface, he opened his eyes and saw the faces of those he had lost reflected in the empty, sunken gaze of the Inferi. He opened his mouth to scream his horror, but before the sound could escape, his mouth was filled with water and his world went black.

Draco woke with a start. He lay there for a moment trying to figure out exactly what had woken him, and then he heard it. A whimpering noise coming from the bed where he knew Harry Potter was sleeping off the effects of too much alcohol. He plumped his pillow and turned over, huffing in disgust that his beauty sleep had been disturbed.

He closed his eyes for a few moments but something in the noises coming from the other boy was tugging at his heart. Sighing, he slipped out from under the covers and softly padded across the room. As he pulled the hangings apart and peered down at the source of the interruption, his heart caught in his throat. Harry began to thrash about, pleading with some unseen force, and choking back sobs.

Draco couldn't hold back any longer. He sat down on the edge of the bed and drew the hangings closed. Casting a silencing charm so that Blaise wouldn't be disturbed, he then turned his attention back to the disturbed boy.

He reached out a hand to shake him awake but Harry flinched from his touch, scrambling away from him. Unsure what to do, Draco lay down on the bed at the side of the smaller boy and wrapped his arms tightly round him, murmuring soothing words. Harry fought against his arms for a moment before relaxing into the embrace.

Just as Draco thought that the nightmare was over, Harry opened his mouth and let out a blood curdling scream that chilled his bones.

Harry woke with a gasp and tried to sit upright but Draco merely tightened his grip on him. Green eyes stared blearily into grey ones for a moment and Draco saw that they were full of unshed tears. Then shaking hands snaked around the blond boy's waist, gripping hard. Draco felt tightness in his chest as the dark-haired boy burrowed against him, head nestled in the crook of his neck

He felt the tremors that ran through Harry's body and Draco rubbed soothing circles on his back. Suddenly a storm of tears burst from deep inside Harry, his body wracked with sobs. Draco felt the tears hot against his neck and held the shaking boy closer to him, dropping small kisses on the messy head of hair.

Gradually the sobs lessened and eventually Draco realised that Harry had cried himself to sleep. He lay there undecided about what he should do next. For as scared as he was of Harry's reaction when he woke up in the Slytherin boy's arms, Draco was even more scared of losing the feeling of complete calm and pure happiness that has swept through him the moment he had felt Harry's body relax in his embrace.

However, the decision was taken out of his hands as tiredness swept through him and his eyelids slowly drooped closed.Harry woke confused the next morning. From the dim light coming through the bed hangings, he knew that he wasn't in his own room, and from the warm body pressed up against him, he knew he wasn't alone.

Fearfully opening his eyes, he pulled his head back slightly to look at the face of his bedfellow. As he looked at the sleeping face of Draco Malfoy, he felt none of the horror that he knew he should be feeling. Draco's blond hair was mussed over his face and there was a faint flush on his pale cheeks. His lips, full and rosy, pouted slightly and Harry marvelled at how angelic the boy looked.Harry was overcome by an urge to touch the other boy, to brush the blond hair off his face. Not wanting to disturb the Slytherin boy, Harry suppressed the urge and lay his head back down on Draco's shoulder, letting the memories of the previous night wash over him.

He remembered being at the party, how he and Neville had come out to each other. He knew there had been alcohol; the faint throbbing in his head confirmed this. Then he remembered lying in Malfoy's lap, the other boy's fingers running through his hair, and… hang on! Malfoy had told him he was beautiful!

Harry had no recollection of going to bed, or indeed why he wasn't in his own bed. Nor did he have any idea of whose pyjamas he was wearing or who had undressed him. He gulped at this thought, not so much that anyone had seen him in his underwear, but that they would have seen the wounds on his arm.

Harry knew he should move, get up before the other boy woke, but there was something so soothing about the rise and fall of Draco's chest underneath him and the slight tickle on the back of his neck every time the blond boy exhaled.

As he lay there, Harry became aware that he had woken with his usual morning arousal and the feel of Draco's bare chest pressed so tight against him really wasn't helping matters. He squirmed slightly, trying to twist his hips away from the other boy. In doing so, he became acutely aware that he was not the only one in this predicament.

The feel of Draco's erection against his thigh sent a tiny shiver of excitement through Harry's body. And he was surprised to feel a burst of hope that this arousal was due to him, that having Harry pressed up against him like this was turning Draco on.

Spurred on by this thought, Harry couldn't help but give an experimental wiggle, and bit his lip to suppress as gasp as his pyjama clad erection brushed slightly against Draco's.

Draco had, in fact, been awake for quite some time and had Harry only but known it, Draco's erection had everything to do with the warm body pressed up against him.

When he felt Harry's wriggle and the touch of their erections, it was all Draco could do not to ravish the boy there and then. Calling on every reserve of Malfoy cool, Draco pulled away from the other boy.

"Harry," he murmured. "Are you awake?"

Draco was disappointed when he received no reply other than a faint snore. He had been hoping against hope that Harry was awake, and that he had been rubbing up against him deliberately. Rebuking himself for being so stupid as to hope, Draco eased himself out of the other boys embrace and headed off in the direction of the bathroom.

Draco hurried into the bathroom and as soon as he had shut the door, he leaned against it, quickly tugging his pyjama pants down over his hips. His hand grasped his aching cock firmly and he stroked as fast as he could, his pre cum lubricating his shaft. He bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep from crying out the name of the boy on the other side of the door as he fisted his cock faster.

Draco felt his knees weaken so he slid down the door until he was sitting on the cool tile of the bathroom floor. He slid his free hand over his chest, gently tugging on his nipples, before twisting harder. He allowed his hand to travel down his body until it slid between his legs, the tip of one finger teasing his tight puckered opening. This sensation, along with the delicious friction his hand was creating on his cock, was enough to set Draco to groaning loudly as his cum spurted all over his naked torso.

He sat there for a moment to catch his breath, a little stunned by the ferocity of his orgasm. He had worried for a moment that Harry had heard him cum, but then remembered the silencing charm he had placed on the bed and felt distinctly relieved. He lazily massaged his seed into his chest, before peeling himself off the floor and stepping into the shower to wash himself clean.

Draco had indeed placed a silencing charm on Harry's bed, but unfortunately for him, Harry had got out of the bed as soon as Draco had disappeared into the bathroom.

Harry had been sitting on the side of the bed tugging on his boots as the first sounds of the blond's orgasm echoed through the room. The groans went straight to Harry's groin and he could think of nothing else but getting back to Gryffindor tower so that he too, could relieve himself in the privacy of his bathroom.

He had just made it to the door when he heard the sound of Draco exiting the bathroom behind him. Turning reluctantly to face the other boy, he found it hard to keep himself from cumming in his pants right then. Draco was standing there in nothing more than a towel that was slung dangerously low on his hips. Harry could see droplets of water running down his broad chest and he wanted nothing more than to flick out his tongue and lick them off.

"Sneaking out, Potter?" Draco drawled, noticing the flustered look on Harry's face with satisfaction.

"Um, No...I just thought...I have some things I need to take care of this morning." Harry cursed himself for stumbling over his words.

Draco arched an eyebrow at the other boy. "So I see."

It didn't escape Harry's notice that Draco was looking directly his swollen groin as he said this. Flushing brighter than ever, he mumbled.

"Thanks for last night, Malfoy, but I really have to go."

With that, he hurried out of the dorm and through the common room, ignoring Pansy's greeting in his embarrassment.

He was practically breathless by the time he reached Gryffindor Tower. He just prayed that there was no one in the common room; he had no desire to be interrogated about his whereabouts the previous night. Not when he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Keeping his head down, he entered the common room and headed straight for the stairs to the boys dormitory, ignoring the knowing looks that he just knew were being sent his way. It wasn't often that someone was found doing the walk of shame at Hogwarts, and the fact that it was Harry Potter doing it made it even more news worthy. Not, Harry told himself sternly, that he had done anything wrong.

Harry was relieved to find the dormitory was empty when he entered; he just didn't have time for questions right now. He hurried to the bathroom and was peeling his clothes off as soon as the door shut. Like Draco before him, he slipped down against the door and took hold of his weeping cock in a firm grasp.

For the first time, since his experience with George, Harry allowed himself to fantasise about someone he knew. As the lips in his fantasy wrapped themselves around Harry's hard cock, he saw grey eyes looking up at him seductively. He imagined how it would feel to wrap his hands in Malfoy's silky blond hair as he guided his prick in between those pouting lips.

He thrust slightly into his hand with every stroke, imagining as he did so, that it was Draco's tight arse that he was driving into. Hearing those guttural groans from the blond boy as Harry's cock filled him completely.

Harry shouted his release, gasping Draco's name as his seed spurted all over his hand and across his belly. He lay there waiting for the feeling of disgust that normally swept over him at these moments, but none came. Only a sense of deep satisfaction swept over him and a small smile played around his lips as he thought of seeing the blond boy again.


	19. No More Excuses

It was past lunchtime on Sunday when Harry finally managed to peel himself out of his warm bed.

He wandered down to the common room and curled up in one of the squashy chairs by the fireplace. He buried his nose in a book, trying to avoid eye contact with either Neville or Seamus, both of whom were shooting him meaningful looks.

"So, Harry."

The dark-haired boy's heart sank at the sound of Seamus' Irish lilt.

"Did you have a good time last night? You certainly seemed very relaxed around certain Slytherins!"

Seamus' blue eyes twinkled as he saw a rosy blush creep up from under the collar of Harry's tee shirt. Enjoying his friend's discomfort immensely, he continued.

"We just didn't have the heart to wake you; you looked so comfy, snuggled up in Malfoy's lap."

Harry's head snapped up to shoot his friend a glare, just as Neville spoke up.

"Keep your voice down. Weren't you the one rambling on about 'what happens in the dungeons, stays in the dungeons?'"

Harry noted a faint hint of panic in Neville's voice and suddenly remembered the sight of his roommate pressed up against Blaise, locked at the lips. This mental image did nothing to restore Harry's calm, so mentally shaking the picture from his head he turned to the Irish boy.

"You're not jealous are you, Shay? I mean, I noticed that you seemed quite interested in getting into Malfoy's lap yourself." Harry's voice was calm and smooth, which was definitely a bad sign.

Seamus however, simply grinned at him, refusing to take to bait.

"I wouldn't have said no, Harry. This is the Slytherin sex god we're talking about. Sadly, it seems there's only one person he's interested in cuddling up to right now."

His meaning was clear but Harry chose to ignore it, turning instead to his rather dull Transfiguration text book.

Neville shot Seamus a warning look as he opened his mouth to continue, the Irish boy caught the glint in his roommates eyes and wisely closed his mouth.

Harry stared at the book but the words seemed to dance around the page in front of his eyes – he just couldn't concentrate on homework.

His mind was full of the image of a semi-naked, wet Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin's body was as close to perfection as Harry's limited experience allowed him to imagine. His skin was so pale that it almost gleamed. He had a sleek build, but toned muscles had been visible across his glistening torso.

The towel had been slung so low that Harry had caught a glimpse of a trail of blonde fuzz leading down from his navel, and ending up... Well, that thought caused a tightening in Harry's pants so he made efforts to quickly change the path of his thoughts.

Harry couldn't help but remember the feel of Draco's long fingers as they raked through his hair, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around his body. Arms! Harry realised with a jolt. Malfoy's arms had been toned, smooth, pale, and without blemish. He sucked in a breath as a realisation shot through him. There was no Dark Mark on the blond boy's forearm. After comments that Pansy had made, Harry had begun to think he had been wrong about Draco's Death Eater past, but seeing it so clearly with his own eyes gave Harry a feeling of indescribably happiness.

After a short while of gazing blindly at his homework, Harry slammed the book shut in exasperation. He just couldn't keep his mind on schoolwork right now. Looking up, he saw Ron and Hermione enter though the portrait hole and, after a moments hesitation, they headed over to where he sat.

No sooner had the couple squashed together in one of the larger chairs, than Hermione dug deep in her bulging bag and produced several outsized books. She smiled briefly at the other Gryffindor boys before disappearing behind one of the ancient looking tomes.

Ron turned his attention to Harry, gazing at him with an expression of confusion on his freckled face.

"What happened to you last night, Harry? Dean said you didn't sleep in your bed."

Harry started at this, unsure of how to answer. Neville had said earlier that they weren't supposed to mention the party, but he couldn't think of another explanation that would satisfy Ron.

Fortunately, Seamus, of all people, sensed Harry's dilemma and spoke up for him.

"It was my fault. I had a bottle of Ogden's and gave him some. Only alcohol and Harry don't really mix very well. He ended up sleeping it off in the hospital wing."

Harry flashed Seamus a grateful look before turning to look at his friends, feeling only slightly guilty at lying to them. Ron seemed perfectly satisfied with the answer and, Harry reflected, Ron had seen him drunk enough times to know that what Seamus said about his tolerance was perfectly true.

Harry didn't miss, however, the slightly suspicious look that Hermione was shooting in his direction. For the first time since term began, Harry was grateful for the souring of relations between him and his oldest friends. He prayed silently that this would be enough to keep the bushy-haired girl from making her usual relentless enquiries into the situation. The last thing he needed, now that he and Ron were on speaking terms again, was for the redhead to learn that Harry had, in fact, spent the night curled around a certain blond Slytherin.

Fortune was indeed shining on Harry, and with one last leery look in his direction, Hermione returned to her Ancient Runes. Ron quickly engaged himself in a conversation about Quidditch with the other boys, loudly championing the Chudley Cannons to anyone who would listen. Harry could see that neither Seamus nor Neville were particularly interested, but smiled and nodded politely at the redhead's comments.

Harry still had a faint throbbing behind his eyes and was in no mood for Ron's enthusiastic diatribe. He fidgeted in his chair, trying to get comfortable. Finally giving it up as a bad job, he launched himself from the seat and walked over to the nearest widow. No sooner had he reached there, than he impatiently turned round and headed back to his friends again. He flopped down in his chair, another soul-deep sigh escaping his lips.

"For the love of Merlin, Harry, What's wrong with you today? You're like a caged animal."

Ron had roused himself from his Quidditch monologue briefly. Hermione looked up, her eyes scrutinising Harry's pale face.

"Are you still feeling OK, Harry? Maybe you need to go back and see Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry shook his head firmly, the last thing he needed was a visit to the hospital wing; he had spent more than enough time there over the years.

"No I'm fine. I'm just a bit restless is all."

"Well why don't you go for a walk or go flying. Just do something, Harry, you're driving me crazy."

Harry gave the girl a brilliant grin. He had been wondering how to make his escape without anyone getting suspicious, and now she had just given him the perfect way.

"I think you're right, Hermione. I'll go and grab a broom; a good fly is just what I need to clear my head."

Ron's eyes widened and Harry held his breath, knowing the redhead was going to insist on coming with him. Before the words had even had chance to form on the boy's lips, he received a sharp tap on his leg and a forceful glare from his girlfriend.

"Don't even think about it, Ronald Weasley. You promised me we would spend the day together, and that is what we will do. Even if it kills us!"

Ron shrugged at Harry, who managed to return a sympathetic smile before fleeing the common room in search of a broom."And stay out!"

Pansy and Blaise turned their heads in the direction of this shout and were rewarded by the sight of an agitated Theodore Nott hurrying towards them.

He slumped into a chair at the side of Pansy and looked at her beseechingly.

"Pansy, can't you do something about Draco? I want to get in our room and he refuses to let me. He's in a real temper."

Blaise turned to the girl hopefully; he too had been banished from his bedroom. "Yeah, Pans, you know he'll listen to you. I wanted to have a nap this afternoon," he whined.

Pansy looked at both boys, laughter dancing in her eyes.

"Sorry, but you're on your own with this one. I've got more sense than to disturb Draco when he's in a temper, and so should you both. You know he's best left alone till he calms down."

"Well, what's wrong with him? He was fine last night and now he's practically foaming at the mouth," Theodore questioned with a puzzled look on his face.

Blaise sniggered. "Sexual frustration."

The three friends shared a burst of laughter at this, which stopped suddenly at the sound of a slamming door. They looked up expectantly, just in time to see the subject of their conversation stalking towards them, an ominous look in his grey eyes.

Draco made his way over to them and slumped down on the very sofa that had played host to him and Harry Potter the night before. Pansy sat looking at the blond boy expectantly.

"Pansy, will you stop bloody staring. You're making my head hurt," he snapped.

"Don't be so dramatic, Draco. I only wanted to know what happened between you and Harry this morning. He ran out of here as though there were a pack of Dementors after him." The dark-haired girl leaned forward in her chair, edging nearer to the prone figure of her friend.

"What did you do to him, Draco?"

Draco sat up quickly, a hand grabbing at his forehead to relieve the pressure caused by the sudden movement.

"I didn't do anything," he snarled. "I was so bloody restrained that I made Hufflepuffs look like raging nymphos"

A quiet snigger caused Draco to turn his head in the direction of its author.

"And I don't know what you're sitting there looking so smug about, Zabini. How come I'm the one getting the interrogation when you were the one with your tongue down Longbottom's throat most of the night. Why don't we discuss your love life for a change?"

Blaise smiled serenely at the annoyed look on his friends face. "Because I'm not Draco Malfoy and Neville is not Harry Potter." Blaise ignored Draco's mumbled 'thank fuck' before continuing.

"Draco, all we've heard from you for years is how much you hate the boy and yet last night he was curled up in your lap like a kitten. Of course we're interested, we're only human. And more than that, we're your friends Draco and we care. What happened?"

Some of the tension eased out of Draco's body and he allowed himself to relax back against the soft leather of the sofa. His hands rubbed at his eyes and a groan escaped his lips.

"What the fuck am I going to do? I woke up this morning with him wrapped in my arms and his hard cock digging in my thigh. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to jump him there and then?"

Pansy's eyes widened. "He had a hard on?"

Draco nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak any more for fear of betraying further weakness. His hands were still pressed against his tired eyes, so he missed the satisfied look that passed over the girl's face as she sat back in the chair.

"So that's what freaked him out then?" Blaise asked.

"I suppose it could have been that, or it could have been the sound of Draco's wanking session that did the trick!"

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at Theodore; two were widened in surprise and one pair in abject terror.

"Draco, you didn't?" Pansy's voice shook slightly with repressed laughter.

"Fuck off, Parkinson, this isn't funny. I can't believe he heard me."

Blaise and Theodore shared an amused look.

"C'mon, Draco, it's not like you're particularly quiet when you wank. Theo and I regularly wake up to the sound of you beating off. I quite enjoy it."

Draco looked horrified at this. "Pervert," he snapped.

The Italian boy smirked at his friend's angry face. "Relax Draco, its quiet a compliment, really. Just the sound of you wanking gets me off most mornings."

The blond boy gaped open-mouthed at this, whilst the other three laughed at his discomfort.

"Really, Draco, don't be such a prude. You've had your cock up his arse, so I hardly think this is something to get squeamish about." Pansy sat back in her chair, a smug look on her face.

Draco was seriously considering hexing his friends; in fact he was already fingering his wand thoughtfully when a nervous looking first year Slytherin tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

The small boy flinched wildly when Draco spun round brandishing his wand.

"S-s-sorry," the small boy stuttered.

"Well, what do you want? And it better be important," Snarled the blond, taking out his frustration on the shaking child in front of him.

"There's someone at the door asking for you. I think it's Harry Potter." This sentence came out so rushed that Draco could barely make out what the boy had said, but his ears definitely pricked up at the last two words.

He was on his feet in an instant. Pushing the first year out of the way, he strode over to the common room entrance. Standing there on the threshold was a nervous looking Harry Potter, one look at his green eyes and Draco felt the last of his anger melt away.

"Harry," he greeted him cautiously.

"Hi," Harry answered shyly. This had seemed such a good idea to him on the way down to the dungeons, but now his hands were sweating and he seemed to have lost the ability of speech.

A few awkward moments passed, during which time neither boy spoke. Finally, Draco noticed the broom in the Gryffindor's hand,

"Have you been flying?"

Harry shook his head, relieved that the Slytherin had broken the painful silence.

"No, I'm just about to go." He shifted his feet nervously, a light flush staining his cheeks. "I wondered... doyouwanttocomewithme?"

The words flew out of Harry's mouth quicker than a snitch, but Draco understood perfectly and felt his stomach turn a perfect somersault. Trying to hide his elation, but failing miserably, he grinned stupidly at Harry.

"I'd love to. Just let me go get my things. You want to come in and wait?"

Harry nodded, feeling warmed by the smile that lit the blond boys face, and followed Draco into the common room.

As soon as Harry had produced a Golden Snitch from his pocket, all the earlier awkwardness between the two boys evaporated.

Green and silver eyes glinted with a hint of their old competitiveness. They mounted their brooms, grinned at each other, and soared into the air.

They came to a halt, brooms only feet apart and eyes darting round, hunting for the gleam of gold that would lead them to victory.

"I bet you've missed this, Malfoy!"

Draco turned his head to find a cheeky grin spread across Harry Potter's face.

"What's that?" he asked, intrigued.

"Losing to me, of course."

Draco took the jest in the spirit it was intended. "I only let you win out of pity, Potter," he drawled. "I could have wiped the floor with you if I had really tried."

Harry shook his head, eyes glinting with humour. "Whatever, you're going down, Malfoy!"

"Not right now I'm not. But if you ask prettily enough later, I might be persuaded." Draco finished up by giving Harry his best seductive wink.

While the Gryffindor struggled to recover from the shock that Draco Malfoy was flirting with him, the Slytherin pulled sharply to the right on his broom and tore downwards. He had sighted the snitch!

A split second later and Harry was right on his tail. Draco tried every trick he could think of to shake Harry's concentration, but the Gryffindor's eyes were focussed on the glint of gold that flitted temptingly in the distance.

As Harry pulled level with him, Draco risked a quick glance at the other boy. He sucked in his breath as he took in the look of sheer pleasure on Harry's face, his cheeks flushed pink, green eyes bright and shining, his dark hair...well, his dark hair looked as messy as usual but Draco found it very cute despite himself.

Suddenly the snitch changed direction and both boys were forced to perform 180's at high speed. Harry's hands tightened their grip on his broom, feeling a brief pang of regret that it wasn't his trusty Firebolt.

They flew hard for the next twenty minutes, each trying to impress the other with twists and turns. Draco had a look of grim determination on his face, he had never caught the snitch against Harry and was determined that this would be the first time. Twice he had come within reach of the Snitch, his arm reaching out, hands grasping, only to have it zip off in another direction, leaving him frustrated beyond belief.

Harry was revelling in the feeling of flying against Draco again. Nothing else mattered to him at that point other than the Golden Snitch and, he secretly admitted to himself, the golden head that kept distracting him from the prize.

Draco caught sight of the snitch way below them and instantly dropped into a dive. Harry followed a split second later, both of them hurtling towards the ground at breakneck speed. As hard as Harry tried to keep up, his Cleansweep was no match for Draco's Firebolt. Before Harry could catch up with the other boy, Draco had pulled up short, his hand raised jubilantly in the air, his fingers curled tightly around the snitch.

Any disappointment Harry might have felt about losing quickly disappeared when he saw the look of pure joy on Draco's face.

The two boys reluctantly made their way down to the ground, Draco was almost panting from the exertion of beating Harry. He flopped down onto the ground, lying on his back grinning up at Harry.

"Looks like it's you that's going down, Harry," he smirked suggestively.

Harry merely flopped on the ground at his side. "Not bad, Malfoy, I'll give you that."

"Not bad? I was bloody brilliant, admit it."

Harry laughed at the other boy's enthusiasm, "OK, Draco, you were bloody brilliant." Then seeing the smug look on the other boy's face, he continued. "Of course, if I had been on a Firebolt, instead of this heap of crap, then you would have been eating my dirt."

Draco rolled onto his side and punched Harry playfully. "No one likes a sore loser, Potter."

They lay there in silence for a few moments, each racking their brains for something to say. Harry got there first.

"I've been meaning to ask you how you're mum's doing. It can't be easy with your dad being..." Harry trailed off here, not wanting to bring up bad memories."In Azkaban, you can say it, Harry, its OK." Draco turned his head and smiled weakly at Harry, just to let him know there were no longer any hard feelings about this.

"She's doing OK, I guess. It's just so frustrating for her having this whole investigation hanging over her neck. I mean, she's grateful that she's not in Azkaban with Father, and I guess we have you to thank for that, but she's been under house arrest for months now and I think it's starting to get to her. Especially now that I'm not there for company."

Harry rolled onto his side and faced the other boy. "Have they given her any idea of how much longer it's going to take? They really seem to be dragging it out, but I can't see that they have much to go on."

Draco shook his head. "They haven't. But I guess they are just having too much fun holding it over her. She's just another Malfoy to them; the Ministry know they haven't got anything concrete on her, so they just found another way to punish her."

Not knowing what to say to that, Harry fell silent. There were so many things that he wanted to ask Draco, but he just wasn't sure how he would react. Deciding to take a risk, he took a deep breath and spoke.

"Draco, can I ask you something?"

"I rather think you're about to." Draco smiled, but seeing the serious look on the Gryffindor's face, he stopped.

Here goes, Harry thought to himself. "How come you don't have a Dark Mark?"

He braced himself for the Slytherin's response, not sure if he was ready for the answer, but knowing he couldn't hold the question in any longer.

Draco let out a bitter chuckle. "That's easy. I don't have the Dark Mark because I was never a Death Eater. Killing Dumbledore was to serve as my initiation, a way to prove myself worthy to Voldemort. I failed and was punished for it, part of that was his refusal to Mark me. Not that I minded by then. After he threatened to kill me and my parents, I wasn't exactly his loyal servant."

"I'm glad." Harry placed a comforting hand on Draco's arm.

"You're glad about what?" Draco asked, confused.

"Glad that you weren't a Death Eater, that Voldemort didn't Mark you."

"Me too, Harry," Draco sighed.

"Besides," Harry added, with a trace of a smirk on his lips. "You'd have made a shit one anyway."

Both boys burst out laughing at this, the tension broken. Draco held up the Snitch that was still clasped tightly in his hand.

"Want a chance to regain your dignity? How about we make it the best of three? Only this time we'll make it a little more interesting."

Harry looked at him suspiciously, "What did you have in mind?"

"How about the loser has to wear the winner's house colours for a week?"

Harry smiled to himself, mentally picturing Draco in Gryffindor red and gold. "You're on!"

Draco released the Snitch and then stood up, watching as it fluttered off in the distance. They both mounted their brooms quickly and tore after it.You could have heard a pin drop in the Great Hall on Monday morning, when Harry Potter sauntered in wearing the green and silver of Slytherin. He slipped into his seat, trying not to laugh at the look of outrage on Ron's face as he took in Harry's outfit.

He saw Draco's grinning face over at the Slytherin table and gave him a nod.

"Would you mind explaining to me, Mr Potter, exactly why it is you are wearing that outfit?"

Harry turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing behind him, not looking overly pleased.

"Just promoting inter house unity, Professor," he quipped with a smirk. After all, he reasoned, she was the one who had asked him to build bridges between the houses, so what could she really say to him.

Professor McGonagall seemed to realise this too. "Very well Mr Potter. In that case, ten points to Gryffindor," she said somewhat begrudgingly. By the time Saturday came round, Harry was almost sorry to see the back of his Slytherin uniform. He would never grow tired of seeing the look of outrage on Ron's face every time he had looked at Harry's robes. However, just as a gesture to the boy, Harry pulled on a red sweater as he headed downstairs for lunch.

"Nice to see you back in house colours, Harry."

Harry smiled at Hermione, knowing that she too had secretly enjoyed Ron's horror at Harry's wardrobe this last week

Before he could reply, he noticed an owl swooping down towards the Gryffindor table, clutching a long parcel in his claws. The owl pulled up in front of Harry and dropped its burden, which he caught only by dint of his Seeker-honed reflexes.

Harry held the parcel and his breath; he knew what it was but he just couldn't figure out where it had come from. His shaking fingers peeled back the wrapping as his housemates looked on. It was a brand new broom. A Firebolt, just like his old one.

He couldn't recognise the writing on the parcel and had no clue as to who had sent it. Just then, a small note fell out of the wrapping. Picking it up eagerly, Harry read it. It wasn't signed, but from the three words scrawled on the parchment, Harry knew exactly who it was from. The note read:

'No more excuses.'

His eyes snapped to the Slytherin table seeking the pale-blond head, but he was disappointed. He turned to speak to Neville at his side just in time to see Draco disappearing out of the Great Hall.

He thrust the broom at Neville with a quick request to look after it, and then went running out of the hall after Draco.

It didn't take long for Harry to catch up with him.

"Draco, wait up! I want to talk to you."

Draco turned slowly to face him. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to say thank you, but I can't accept that. I know how expensive they are."

Draco gave a dismissive wave of the hand. "Rubbish, of course you can. Just accept it in the spirit it was given."

Harry looked at him questioningly, so Draco explained further.

"Look, its simple. I got you that broom because the next time I beat you to the Snitch, I want to know it's because I'm better than you. I'm not having you blame the equipment next time, Potter!"

Harry smiled warmly at him. "And what happens when I beat you!"

"Oh please, as if that's going to happen again."

"I might just let you win out of gratitude," Harry smirked. "Seriously though, Draco, thank you, it means a lot that you would do that for me."

Draco shrugged again. "Well, that's what friends do, isn't it?"

Harry was tempted for just a split second to drag the other boy into a hug, but before he could do something so embarrassing, the mood was disturbed by Ron's arrival in the dungeons.

"Trying to buy friends now are you, Malfoy? Mind you, I suppose with your last two goons dead, you are in need of replacements."

Harry looked at Ron, stunned by his casual cruelty in mocking the deaths of Draco's friends.

"Fuck you, Weasel," Draco snapped.

"Oh dear, such bad language," Ron mocked. "That'll be twenty points from Slytherin, I think," he finished smugly.

Draco glared at him fiercely. "You can't do that."

"Oh I think you will find that I can, Malfoy. I am Head Boy in case you hadn't noticed"

Draco sneered at the redhead. "We all know that, Weasley. What none of us can figure out is who in their right mind would give that position to you, instead of Harry."

Ron flushed in anger at this but Draco didn't notice. He was too busy watching the uncomfortable look on Harry's face, and suddenly something clicked. He looked back at Ron with a dangerous smile on his face.

"Oh, I understand now," he drawled. "Potter turned the job down so they went for second best. How does that feel, Weasel? Going through life living off Harry's scraps? You probably only got Granger because Harry wasn't interested in her. It must be so demeaning."

"Draco," Harry said in warning, seeing that Ron was hanging on to his temper by a thread.

Suddenly, Ron's hands slammed Draco against the dungeon wall, his face twisted with hatred. Silver eyes bored into him.

"Assaulting a fellow student. Hardly behaviour befitting a Head Boy, Weasley. What would McGonagall say if she heard."

Harry placed a hand on the redheads arm. "Ron, get off him."

Draco smirked. "It's OK, Harry. I can handle the Weasel.

Ron let go of Draco's robes and stepped away from him. "You think you're so clever, Malfoy," he spat. "You think cos you've got Harry on your side that everyone else is fooled by your act."

Draco leant against the wall, arms folded across his chest, regarding Ron coolly.

"Well, Harry's not your friend, not really. He only gives you the time of day because McGonagall guilt tripped him into it and he was too nice to say no."

The words cut into Draco like a sharp blade and his mask slipped for just a moment. Ron noticed, triumphant.

"Not so smug now, are you, ferret?"

Draco didn't reply. He pushed off the wall and stalked away from the two Gryffindors.

"Draco, wait!" Harry pleaded.

Draco didn't wait, and Harry had to watch as his blond head disappeared from sight.

"Ha, serves him right. Slimy snake, eh, Harry?"

Harry looked at his friend, rage bubbling in his chest.

"Fuck you, Ron," he snapped, before running off into the dungeons in search of Draco.Draco hadn't actually gone very far. He couldn't face going back into the common room so had slipped into the empty Potions classroom.

His head was spinning. How could Harry do that to him? Why would he be so cruel as to let Draco think they were really friends, when all along it was an act? He lashed out at the wall, feeling the rough stone skin his knuckles.

He should have known better. After all, why would Harry Potter want to be friends with him? And yet it had seemed so real, so genuine. Draco couldn't believe that only a week had passed since that night Harry had curled up in his lap, which had been the best night of Draco's life so far.

Draco felt tears prickle at his eyes. He blinked furiously, Malfoy's don't cry he told himself sternly. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. Just as he was managing it, the door burst open, in came Harry Potter, and Draco's world fell apart once more.

"Go away, Potter," he growled.Harry's heart sank when he saw the look of hurt in Draco's eyes. He reached out a hand, tentatively, to touch him. Draco shook him off.

"Fuck off and leave me alone, Potter. I don't want your pity."

"It's not like that, Draco. I do want to be your friend." Harry's words and face were so earnest that Draco felt himself weaken.

"Is it true? What Weasley said? Did McGonagall tell you to befriend me?"

Harry walked closer to the blond boy. "It is and it isn't," he said somewhat cryptically.

Draco huffed. "Make your mind up. She either did or she didn't. It's really a very simple question."

Harry came closer still, backing Draco up towards the wall.

"She spoke to me at the beginning of term. She told me she was worried that there would be trouble between the houses this year and that she thought people would follow my example."

Harry's hand was on Draco's arm now and the blond boy didn't flinch from the touch this time.

"I didn't become your friend for any other reason than that I wanted to, Draco, I swear."

Draco's body sagged. "I just don't know what to believe, Harry." His blond head drooping, avoiding Harry's intense gaze.

Harry was terrified that he was going to lose Draco before they had even really got to know one another. So scared, that he acted on impulse. He reached out one hand and tipped Draco's chin up so that their eyes met. Leaning forward slightly, nervously licking his lips.

"Believe this," he whispered as he gently lowered his lips onto Draco's. His hands brushed lightly up the side of Draco's face, before burying themselves in the silky strands of his blond hair. His heart sang as he felt Draco relax into the kiss, and arms snake round his waist.

Then Draco was pulling Harry's bottom lip into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it, and Harry thought he would cry from sheer pleasure. He allowed his tongue to slip between Draco's parted lips, probing the warmth of his mouth.

Hands around Harry's waist held tighter, pulling him flush against Draco's body. Harry shifted his position and felt Draco groan into his mouth as their erections brushed against each other. Harry panted as he pulled back from the embrace, resting his forehead against Draco's. Their eyes locked on each other in silence, till Draco spoke.

"Well, that's new."

Harry nodded, smiling. "Yes, and we're definitely going to do that again."

"Idiot," Draco said affectionately, his hand ruffling Harry's hair.

Harry felt Draco take hold of his hand and begin to tug him towards the door.

"I don't want to go, Draco," he whined. "I want to stay here and...do stuff."

"Oh, I think we can find more interesting things than 'stuff' to do, Harry. But let's go back to my room first, anyone could see us here." He saw the faint look of alarm in those impossibly green eyes and smiled.

"Don't worry, Harry. Your virtue is safe with me, for now at least."

He dropped a gentle kiss on Harry's pouting lips and propelled him out of the classroom.


	20. Is This Okay?

The two boys quickly made their way to the Slytherin common room. Draco murmured the password and pulled Harry in after him. He nodded in acknowledgement to a few of his housemates but carried on towards his room without pause.

Once inside, Draco pushed the door closed behind them and, pointing his wand, whispered, "Colloportus."

Draco turned to look at Harry, who was standing in front of him, fingers twisting in his robes nervously. Draco closed the distance between them and placed a hand on Harry's chin, tipping it up so he could look into the other boy's green eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing really, it's just...what will people think, us being in here alone with the door locked."

Draco grinned and placed a hand on the other boys shoulder. "Relax, Harry; you're in Slytherin now, not Gryffindor. There's much worse than this goes on in here!"

Harry smiled. "Pansy said much the same when I was in her room."Draco shrugged. "Well, what can I tell you? We're a house of deviants."

Harry stepped closer to Draco, their chests touching lightly. "Lucky for me then," he whispered.

Draco's hand slid up from Harry's shoulder, grazing against the sensitive flesh of his neck before slipping up further to tangle in his hair. "I thought that this would feel strange, you and me, but it doesn't at all."

Harry smiled at the blond boy, "You've been thinking about kissing me?"

"Well, technically, you kissed me. But yes, I've thought about kissing you, a lot." A rosy flush spread across Draco's face with this admission.

Harry leaned closer to Draco's face. "Good." His lips met Draco's in a brief tender kiss, before pulling back and smiling at the other boy again. "You look adorable when you're embarrassed, you know?"

Draco stepped back from Harry, a look of mock outrage on his pale features. "Malfoy's are not adorable, Potter," he stated haughtily. "We are good looking and sexy, but never adorable."

"Whatever you say, Dray!"

"Dray?" Draco questioned, eyebrow raised.

Harry shrugged, "It's just something I'm trying out."

In response, Draco wrapped his arms around the dark-haired boy's waist and pulled him in closer, their bodies flush against each other. "I like it."

Harry looked up at Draco, an evil grin on his face. "Well, it's definitely an improvement on Drakie!"

"If you ever call me that, Potter, there will be severe consequences."

"Sounds like fun," Harry replied, grinning wickedly.

"Kinky bugger, we'll make a Slytherin of you yet." Draco smirked.

Harry smiled softly at the blond as he closed his eyes and leaned in to brush his lips against Draco's. Draco's eyelids fluttered shut as he tilted his head and lost himself in the gentle pressure of Harry's lips pressed against his own.

Harry barely noticed as Draco began walking him backwards, only when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed did he break the kiss and look at the blond Slytherin, biting his lip nervously.

"What if one of your roommates comes in?" he whispered.

"Harry, relax. I've told you, this is Slytherin, no one will bat an eyelid." Then, seeing that this did nothing to ease Harry's tension, he tried again, "Nott isn't here, he's gone to St Mungo's to see his mother, and taken Pansy with him. Blaise is off somewhere with Longbottom, probably doing what we should be doing now instead of talking."

Harry grinned at this. "Impatient, Draco?"

"Damn right I am," the Slytherin growled before crashing his lips back down onto the Gryffindor's. He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and gently pushed the other boy down on to the bed. Harry's eyes widened in surprise as Draco straddled him, his knees resting either side of Harry's hips, their groins pressed together.

Draco took hold of Harry's arms and pinned them gently above his head before leaning down and placing a row of butterfly kisses along the dark haired boys jaw. Harry let out a soft groan before he could stop himself. Draco pressed his hips closer, smiling as this elicited a gasp from Harry when he felt Draco's erection pressing against his own.

Harry's hands snaked round Draco's waist and he quickly tugged the blond boy's shirt free from his trousers. Sliding his hands under the fabric, Harry could feel the soft warmth of Draco's skin against his fingertips.

Draco traced the tip of his tongue down the side of Harry's neck, before flicking it out and licking the shell of his ear. He felt a small shiver run through the Gryffindor's body,

"Do you like that, Harry?" he whispered, before gently nibbling at Harry's earlobe.

Harry could only nod in response, his mind so overwhelmed by the sensations that were coursing through his body. Draco's hands slid to the hem of Harry's red jumper and began to tug it upwards, placing tiny kisses on the stretch of tanned skin it revealed. Harry shivered as Draco's tongue swirled round his navel and he arched his back of the bed, easing the removal of his top.

Draco tossed Harry's jumper to one side and turned his attention to the naked torso beneath him, lowering his lips to one pink nipple, slowly circling it with his tongue before sucking it between his lips.

Harry gasped as he felt Draco's teeth graze his nipple, biting gently, before instinctively wrapping his legs around the blonde's waist, pulling him in closer. Draco let out a soft moan at the increase in pressure against his erection and rocked his hips against Harry.

Harry's hands scrambled at Draco's shirt, desperate to remove it, to feel their naked flesh pressed against each other. Smirking at the other boy's efforts, Draco sat back and began to slowly unbutton his shirt, aware of bright green eyes watching his every movement. Harry's hands slid up onto Draco's bare chest, his palms stroking against the smooth pale skin.

Draco took hold of one of Harry's hands and raised it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss onto the palm. Noticing something, he slowly turned Harry's arm and raised concerned silver eyes to meet the Gryffindor's.

"Harry, what happened to your arm?"

'Shit' Harry cursed silently. He had gotten so carried away that he had forgotten all about the cuts on his arm when Draco removed his jumper. The last thing he wanted was for Draco to find out how weak he really was. Thinking quickly, he forced a smile onto his face and met the other boy's gaze.

"It was Buckbeak." Then seeing the other boys questioning look, he explained further. "Hagrid's Hippogriff, I was helping feed him the other day and he caught my arm." Harry held his breath as he finished speaking, praying that Draco would accept this and not pry further.

Draco raised Harry's arm to his lips and pressed a row of kisses along the cuts, before turning his attention to Harry's mouth. As Draco's soft lips pressed against his own, Harry could have sworn he heard him mumble, "Bloody Hippogriffs!"Any guilt Harry may have felt about lying to Draco and using Hagrid as an excuse was soon gone as he felt Draco's lips sucking gently at his throat. His legs wrapped again round the blondes waist, pulling him tight against him. Draco began to rock steadily against Harry, their erections pressed hard against each other.

Harry's hands slid up into Draco's hair, twisting the silky strands between his fingers as he pulled the blonde boys face down to his. He crashed his mouth onto Draco's again, his tongue plunging between the blonde's lips, probing the depths of his mouth.

Draco worked one hand in between their frotting bodies and began to tug at the zip on Harry's trousers. Harry let out a small whimper at this and Draco felt him tense slightly.

"If you want me to stop, Harry, just say," he gasped, praying that he would have the control to stop if that was what Harry wanted.

Green eyes looked back up at him, filled with desire. "I do want this, Dray, it's just that I've never..." Harry tailed off here, blushing furiously.

"Had sex with a man before," Draco finished for him.

"With anyone," Harry whispered and Draco felt a tightening in his chest. He slowly withdrew his hand from Harry's waistband and smiled down at the other boy.

"Don't worry; we won't do anything you don't feel comfortable with."

Draco was amazed at his own gentleness and that he was willing to put Harry's feelings before his own needs. He moved slowly against Harry again, "Is this ok?"

Harry's hips rose off the bed and ground against Draco's erection. "More than OK, and don't you dare stop." He felt Draco chuckle against his neck, the feel of his breath on the sensitive skin caused a shudder to run through Harry's body.

Harry's finger dug into the skin on Draco's back as he arched off the bed to meet the blonde boy's every thrust. After only a few more moments of the delicious friction, Harry was shouting Draco's name as he came hard.

The feel of Harry's shaking body was enough to set Draco off, and after another hard thrust against the Gryffindor, Draco too was shouting his orgasm, Harry's name on his lips.

Draco collapsed down onto Harry's chest and lay there for a few moments to catch his breath. Slowly he rolled off the dark-haired boy and lay on his side, looking intently at Harry and traced circles on his chest with his finger tips.

Harry turned to smile at him. "That was amazing."

Draco grinned in return, "You weren't so bad yourself." He leaned over and placed a light kiss on Harry's mouth, just as the Gryffindor tried to stifle a yawn.

"You're tired" he accused.

"I'm sorry; I didn't get much sleep last night."

Draco took in the faint shadows under Harry's eyes and gently traced them with his thumb. "Nightmare?" he questioned.

Harry nodded his head slowly, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. Draco reached for his wand and cast a quick cleaning spell over them both, before reaching for the comforter and pulling it up over both of their bodies.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, confused.

"Taking a nap," Draco replied, as if it was the most obvious thing. Harry felt an arm slide round his waist and a warm body pressed up against his, lips ghosted over his own.

"Go to sleep, Potter" Draco murmured, nestling into the Gryffindor, his own eyes drifting shut.

Harry couldn't remember every feeling this safe or warm, so he closed his eyes, turned into Draco's embrace and quickly fell into a dream free sleep.


	21. Malfoys Are Not Adorable

Draco woke to the feel of warm breath tickling his neck and a soft body pressed up against him. He lay with his eyes closed, taking a few moments to remember where he was and who he was with.

As the day's events came back to him, a slow grin spread across his face. He leaned down to press a light kiss to the top of the messy head that was currently nestled in the crook of his arm.

A faint giggle caught his attention and his eyes snapped open. Pansy was perched on the end of the bed, grinning madly its occupants.

"You two are adorable, you know?"

Draco opened his mouth, a stinging retort on the tip of his tongue. But before he could speak, a muffled voice beat him to it.

"Malfoy's are not adorable. Sexy and good looking, yes, but never adorable." Harry placed a soft kiss just under Draco's earlobe and looked up at the blond boy with a teasing smile on his face.

Pansy laughed loudly. "You made that mistake too then, Harry?"

Harry just grinned up at the dark haired girl and nodded. Draco huffed and turned to his friend.

"What are you doing in here, Pansy? I've told you before; I'm never going to let you watch!"

Pansy smirked at this and gave a knowing wink to Harry. "I simply came to see if you two were coming for dinner. I figured you had probably built up quite an appetite by now."

Harry let out a little embarrassed squeak at this and buried his head back down in the safety of Draco's arms. Draco, not at all fazed by Pansy's presence, dropped another kiss on his head and turned back to the girl.

"Now that's adorable," he stated smugly and Pansy couldn't help but agree, much to Harry's eternal shame.

Draco trailed his hand up to Harry's head and began to run his fingers through the unruly mop, his fingertips lightly massaging Harry's scalp.

"What do you really want, Pansy?"

The laughter died from Pansy's eyes and her face took on a serious look. "I need you to speak to Theo," she stated simply.

Draco quirked an eyebrow at this "Was it bad?"

Pansy shrugged. "No worse than usual, but he just seems to take it harder every time. He hasn't said a word to me since we left St Mungo's. He's sat in the common room glaring at everyone who comes near and Blaise has already had to stop him hexing a couple of fourth years. Draco, you have to do something, he'll listen to you."

Draco snorted at this, "I doubt that very much. Theo has never been big on listening to anyone."

"Draco..."

"Merlin, alright, I'll speak to him. Now do you think you could leave so we can get up?" Draco caught the smirk on the girls face. "And no, we are not naked. So get your mind out of the gutter.""Draco, I'm a Slytherin, the gutter is where my mind is happiest! Now hurry up and get out of bed, some of us want to eat tonight, even if you already have." She shot a lascivious grin in Draco's direction.

"Get out, now!"

"Alright, alright, I'm going. Bye, Harry."

As the door closed behind Pansy, Draco turned his attention to the dark-haired boy in his bed.

"She's gone, Harry, you can come out now"

"Don't want to," came the muffled reply. Draco smiled at this. "You're planning to stay there all night?"

"Maybe." Harry raised his face to look at Draco, his lips pouting. Draco smiled and, leaning down, he captured Harry's bottom lip between his own, sucking on it gently.

"Do you have any idea of how cute you look when you do that," Draco murmured against Harry's lips.

"Cute and adorable, all in one day. I must be on a roll!" Harry took in Draco's confused expression, "Muggle expression," he explained.

Draco wrapped his arms round Harry tighter and pressed his lips against the dark-haired boy's in a chaste kiss. He opened his eyes to find serious green eyes staring right back at him.

"What's wrong with his mum?" Draco was puzzled by the abrupt change in the conversation and struggled to catch up with Harry's train of thought.

"What?"

"Nott's mum, you said she was in St Mungo's. What's the matter with her?"

"She's crazy."

Sensing the rebuke that was on the tip of Harry's tongue, he continued earnestly. "I'm not being nasty, she really is crazy. She's been like it ever since his dad was killed in the war. She doesn't even know who Theo is."

"That's awful," Harry whispered.

"That's life." Draco couldn't hide the slightly bitter edge that crept into his voice.

Harry placed one last gentle kiss at the base of Draco's throat before clambering out of the blond's embrace. Harry pulled the comforter back off them, gazing briefly at Draco's naked torso.

Harry's eyes lingered on the faint silvery scars that crossed his pale skin and he reached out, tracing them gently with his fingertips. When his eyes made their way back up to Draco's face, they were full of regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Draco shrugged, "It was nothing I didn't deserve."

"But you could have died. If Snape hadn't come along when he did you would have bled to death."

Draco took hold of Harry's hand between his. "Harry, I was about to cast the Cruciatus Curse on you. If you hadn't used that spell, who knows what I would have done to you."

"Still," Harry said, a stubborn tinge to his voice, "I used a spell without any idea of what it would do. I would never have used it if I had, you do believe that don't you?"

Draco grinned at the worried look on Harry's face, "Of course I do. As if Harry Potter would use Dark Magic knowingly. Merlin, Harry, you defeated Voldemort with an _Expelliarmus_!"

"I'm not perfect, Draco; I've used dark magic when I had to."

"But it's not like you used Unforgivables," Draco persisted. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the uncomfortable look on Harry's face.

"When?" he asked before he could stop himself. Then as Harry opened his mouth to speak, Draco laid a finger over his lips. "No, it's OK. You don't have to answer that, I had no right to ask."

Harry lightly flicked his tongue over Draco's finger before taking hold of the blond's hand and pulling it away from his mouth. "It's alright, I don't mind telling you."

Harry's eyes dropped down to his and Draco's linked hands. He couldn't bring himself to look the Slytherin in the eye as he spoke.

"I used the Cruciatus on Bellatrix after the battle at the ministry. She killed my godfather and I just wanted to make her suffer. And then I used it on one of the Carrows just before the final battle."

"Which one?" Draco's voice was barely a whisper and it took Harry a moment to realise he had spoken.

"Huh?" Harry met Draco's eyes in confusion

"Which one of the Carrow's did you Crucio?" Draco's grip tightened on Harry's hand.

"Oh, it was the brother, Amycus. He spat in Professor McGonagall's face and I guess I just lost it."

"Good, he fucking deserved it." There was no mistaking the hatred behind Draco's words and Harry was startled to see that his eyes had darkened with anger.

"Draco, are you ok?"

The anger disappeared as quickly as it had come, "Yeah, I'm fine." There was finality to his tone that told Harry the subject was closed.

Harry was confused. There was obviously more to this than Draco was saying, but he didn't want to spoil things between them by pushing the issue. Harry let it go, but stored the conversation away to be examined later.

He smiled down at the blond, who was now stretching out on the bed like a cat.

"C'mon, get up."

"What happened to staying in bed?" Draco whined.

Harry shrugged. "You have to go talk to Theodore. In any case, I'm hungry and I have to deal with Ron at some point."

Draco's expression clouded at the mention of the redhead. "I don't see why."

"He's my friend, Draco. He's a good person really; I just think you two bring out the worst in each other. You really found his weak spot with what you said about him coming second best to me."

"Well, he does," Draco sulked. "If he upsets you, I'll hex him."

Harry grinned and leant in to kiss Draco on the cheek. "My hero. Now get up!"

"Bully."

Harry eventually coaxed the pouting blond out of bed and into his clothes. They walked out into the common room and Pansy ushered Draco in the direction of the glowering boy that everyone was avoiding. Harry gave him one last grin before heading off in the direction of the Great Hall on Pansy's arm, with the rest of Slytherin in tow.

Harry was so busy looking out for Ron that he didn't notice the angry flush that spread over Ginny Weasley's face at the sight of him, arm in arm, with Pansy Parkinson.

As he approached the Gryffindor table, Hermione spotted him and automatically slid to one side, making space for him to sit. Flashing the girl a grateful smile, Harry slipped into the now vacant seat and found himself face to face with a very disgruntled looking Ron.

"Hi," Harry offered hopefully.

"Oh, so you are talking to me then," Ron spat. Hermione placed a warning hand on the redhead's arm, but he only shrugged it off.

"No, Hermione, I won't calm down. He can't just come over here and sit with us like nothing's wrong. You blew me off for Malfoy, Harry, how am I supposed to react. And what about Ginny? Did you even think how she would feel seeing you walk in here with that pug-faced bitch draped all over you?"

Harry sat quietly for a moment, stunned by Ron's outburst.

"Ron, Ginny and I broke up a long time ago. There's nothing going on between me and Pansy, but even if there was, it would be none of her business - or yours for that matter. And you were out of line with what you said to Draco earlier, mocking the fact that his friends were dead. That's just cruel."

"Ron, you didn't" Hermione gasped, shocked.

Ron ignored her, his anger had been building since Harry had gone after Malfoy earlier and he wasn't going to stop till he made sure Harry understood exactly how he felt.

"Oh, it's Draco now is it? What's going on with you? How can you speak to that snake? Have you forgotten all the awful things he did and said to us over the years?"

"No," Harry replied softly, "But we were kids then. So much has happened to us all in the last couple of years and I don't think any of us are the same people anymore."

"What about Bill? Have you forgotten what Greyback did to him, all because that bastard let Death Eaters into the school?"

"I don't think it's likely I'll ever forget that night," Harry said coldly, rising from his seat. "Excuse me, Hermione." He flashed an apologetic smile at the bushy-haired girl, before stalking away from them in the one direction that he knew would hit Ron harder than anything.

He sank down into a seat at the Slytherin table between Pansy and Millicent Bulstrode, his back to the rest of the room. But all the same, he could feel Ron's eyes burning into his back throughout the meal. After a brief exchange with Pansy, he sank into a thoughtful silence and was grateful that the Slytherins seemed to respect his privacy and left him in peace to pick at his food.

Draco hadn't made it to the Great Hall for dinner. Harry had been disappointed at first, but now as he sat alone in his dormitory, he was actually relieved to have some time alone to process the day's events.

He sat on his bed, his new broom cradled in his hands. Truth be told, Harry was feeling a little overwhelmed by what had happened between him and Draco. It all seemed to be moving so fast and he was more than a little nervous.

Harry wasn't ready for people to know that he was gay, let alone that he was gay and with Draco Malfoy. He cringed just thinking what the Daily Prophet would make of it, and Harry just knew that it would be a big deal to everyone.

He had been famous his whole life, even if he hadn't known for the first eleven years, and the wizarding world seemed to regard him as public property, like they had a right to know what was going on with his life.

Also, Harry was realistic enough to know, that if his 'friendship' with Draco got out at this stage, that there would be even more hostility to the Slytherin than there already was. Harry still remembered the howlers and hate mail that Hermione had gotten after Rita Skeeter's article back in the fourth year, and he didn't want Draco to have to go through that because of him.

Despite all that, Harry wasn't willing to lose whatever it was that he and Draco had. It had been a long time since Harry could remember feeling emotions this strong, except for hate and guilt, and he was determined to hold on to it for as long as he could.

Just thinking about Draco caused a stirring in Harry's trousers. He replayed the day's events over in his mind, reliving the feel of Draco's lips on his, the feel of a hard body pressed tight against his own.

Harry lay back against the pillows on his bed and allowed his hand to slide down his chest towards the now obvious bulge in his trousers. He brushed his fingers lightly over his erection and had to bite his lips to keep a moan of want from escaping his lips.

He lay still for a moment trying to decide if he dare risk it. After deciding he would, he picked up his wand and quickly closed the hangings round his bed and added a Silencing Charm for good measure.

His hands worked quickly, unzipping himself and freeing his, now fully erect, cock. Rubbing his thumb over the leaking head, he spread the pre-cum down the length of his shaft. He wrapped his hand round his cock and began stroking himself firmly. He imagined what it would feel like to have Draco's hand touching him, teasing him, making him cum.

Harry quickened his stroke, his hips thrusting of the bed to meet his hand. He slipped two fingers into his mouth and began to thrust them between his lips, all the while imagining it was Draco's cock in his mouth. This thought alone was enough to tip him over the edge and it wasn't long until Harry was groaning Draco's name as he came hard, all over his hand.

Harry raised his hand to his lips and gave it a tentative lick, tasting himself. He had expected to be repulsed but it wasn't actually that bad, a little bitter, but not horrible. Harry reminded himself that considering what he had been fantasising about that he had better get used to the taste!Draco was stretched out his favourite chair in the Slytherin common room, silently cursing Theodore Nott for making him miss dinner, and Harry.

The blond kept his eyes fixed on the fire burning brightly in front of him, trying to ignore the pair of bright blue eyes that were currently boring holes into him.

"It's no good ignoring me, Drakie; I'm not going to go away."

"I'm well aware of that, Parkinson. If it was that simple, I would have done it years ago."

Pansy grinned at him. "Now don't be bitchy, Draco, I'm just concerned about your happiness."

"Nice try, but that line would work much better on someone who doesn't know you quite so well. You're just fishing for details of hot sweaty man sex."

Pansy perked up at this. "You mean you and Harry..."

"No, I don't. But even if we had, I would certainly not be sharing the details with you."

The dark-haired girl sat back in her chair, an air of disappointment about her.

"OK, so you won't give me all the sordid details, but the least you can do is tell me how it was. After all, I've had to put up with you moaning like Myrtle over him for weeks, surely I deserve some reward."

"Pansy, I will say this one more time and I'll say it slowly so that even you will comprehend it. I will not be discussing the details of mine and Harry's sex life with you, now or at any point in the future."

"So you admit there is a 'you and Harry'? Come on, Draco," Pansy whined. "Give me something, at least tell me what it was like being with him."

A slow grin lit up the blond's face and Pansy reflected that she had never seen him look so beautiful.

"It was great, he's great."

Draco turned a serious expression to his friend. "I don't want to mess this up, Pansy. I couldn't stand it if I lost him as a friend."

Pansy smiled, and resisted the temptation to inform Draco just how cute she found his insecurity.

"You won't lose him; I saw the way he was cuddled up to you earlier. Trust me, if he isn't already as smitten as you, then he soon will be."

Draco turned his face towards the fire, but not in time to hide his wistful expression. "I hope so," came his soft reply.

Pansy sat in silence for a while, leaving Draco to his own thoughts. She watched him thoughtfully, trying to decide whether to disturb him or not.

"Pansy, you're staring again."

Pansy started guiltily, "Sorry, Drakie." Her eyes dropped to her lap and she watched her hands as they fiddled nervously with the buttons on her dress.

"Spit it out, Parkinson. You've been sat there for the last ten minutes wanting to say something."

Pansy laughed nervously. "You know me too well." She stopped here, but catching sight of the impatient look on her friend's face, she summoned up her courage and began, haltingly, to speak.

"It's about Harry. I was just wondering if... I mean, did you..."

"Pansy, I'm warning you, if this is another sex related question..." Draco didn't finish the sentence, but simply waved his wand in her direction to make his meaning clear.

"No, it's not about that. It's just that, well, did you notice his arms?"

Draco looked at her, confused. "Yes, he has very nice arms. Now what's that got to do with anything."

Pansy shook her head slowly. "I wasn't asking your opinion on them. What I meant was did he have cuts on his arms?"

Draco's face cleared. "Oh, yeah he did. Seems I'm not the only one that bloody giant's Hippogriff likes to attack."

Blue eyes narrowed as she considered this. "That's what he said happened?"

Draco leant forward in his chair, his irritation beginning to show. "What is this, Pansy? You sound like you're trying to say he's lying to me."

Pansy didn't miss the warning tone in her friend's voice, but she had started this now and she was worried about Harry.

"That's because I think he is." She held up a hand to quell the oncoming interruption. "Hear me out Draco. You remember last weekend when Harry got drunk and ended up sleeping down here?"

Draco snorted at this. "Hardly likely to forget that, now am I?"

Pansy acted as if he had never spoken. "Well, when I helped him get changed, I noticed he had cuts on his arm. And I mean cuts, Draco, not scratches."

Draco was looking at her incredulously now. "You've gone mad. You're trying to say that someone cut him?"

Troubled blue eyes met incredulous grey ones. "No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying I think he cut himself."

Draco forced a laugh out at this. "You're insane! Why on earth would you say something like that? I thought you liked him."

"I'm not saying it to be a bitch, I'm saying it because I'm concerned. Look at everything he's been through in his life, it wouldn't exactly be a stretch to see that he could have issues."

"That's a load of bollocks, and don't you dare go repeating that to anyone else. There's nothing wrong with Harry, he's just fine."

But as Pansy sat in her room later that night, cold steel pressed against the white flesh of her own arm, she was not convinced.


	22. Talking's Overrated

Harry woke with a groan on Sunday morning. A quick look at his watch showed it was just past 8 o'clock, which meant he had had little more than four hours sleep. His night had been plagued with dreams of Draco. Some of them had involved the two of them fighting like the old days, and others were far more erotic in content. But all of them had ended with Harry waking up in a cold sweat after dream Draco had turned his wand on Harry, screaming, '_Crucio._'

Harry desperately wanted to curl up and sleep some more but both his imagination and his roommates seemed to have conspired to prevent this. Seamus and Dean were having a loud battle over who got use of the bathroom next and Neville was busy banging around in the wardrobe, flinging items of clothing out onto his bed.

Even without this distraction, Harry was to be denied the peace of sleep. Every time he tried, he was taunted with images of hate filled grey eyes. With a deep sigh, he threw back the covers and dragged his exhausted body out of bed.

After a quick check showed that Seamus and Dean were still firmly occupied with their heated debate, Harry grabbed his clothes and slipped, unseen, into the bathroom. Locking it firmly against the protests of his outraged roommates.

As the hot water eased his tired muscles, Harry found his eyes drawn to his arm where a fresh new cut flared red against his skin. He traced it with a fingertip, feeling, not without satisfaction, the way that the water stung the angry wound.

This one had been added in the early hours of that morning. Harry had woken from a nightmare, overwhelmed by guilt at what he felt was his betrayal of Draco. He liked Draco, the blond had been nothing but nice to him since the start of term, and Harry's subconscious had repaid that with suspicion and accusations.

As he had watched the blood seep out of his own torn flesh, Harry had felt that he could now look the Slytherin boy in the eye.

He left the bathroom, cast a sheepish grin at the two indignant boys waiting outside, and headed down into the common room. He was greeted by a babble of excitement as he entered the room. Looking for its source, Harry spotted a group of 3rd year Gryffindors huddled round the notice bard. After further investigation revealed several sulking 1st and 2nd years, Harry surmised that there had been a Hogsmeade weekend announced.

That set Harry's mind working. Ever since Pansy had played dress up with him before the Slytherin party, Harry had become acutely aware of his own wardrobes shortcomings. And now that he and Draco were...well, whatever the hell they were…Harry found himself wanting to look his best for the other boy. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it!

Harry made a mental note to consult with Pansy about his plan. He may have the money to buy new clothes, but Harry knew, that after years of wearing Dudley's outsized cast offs, he hadn't the first clue about what he should be buying.

Lost in thought, he turned away from the notice board and headed in the direction of the portrait hole. His line of sight was suddenly interrupted by a pair of apprehensive brown eyes.

'Great', Harry thought, 'just what I need before breakfast, a row with Hermione'. His eyes travelled over her face and as he took in the determined set of her jaw, he knew there was no getting away from this conversation.

"Harry," she started, uncertainly. "Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you."

Harry ran a hand through his damp hair, causing it to spike up in every direction.

"What is it, Hermione?" he sighed. "I'm really too tired to argue right now."

"I don't want to argue," she responded in an injured tone. "I just wanted to talk to you. I don't like the way things were left between you and Ron yesterday. You know he doesn't really mean to be like that."

"So why does he do it?" Harry queried, trying hard not to let his frustration show. "No one makes him act that way, or say the things he does."

"Harry, you know how Ron feels about Malfoy, especially after what happened to Bill. You can't expect him to forgive and forget, just like that."

"I don't, Hermione. I'm not asking Ron to become friends with Draco, he can hate him as much as he wants; that's his right. I just hoped that my best friend would respect my right to make my own decisions."

"I think he would if it were anyone but Malfoy."

Harry let out a deep sigh and rubbed at his eyes. "But it is Malfoy, Hermione. I like him. He's funny and smart, and when he lets that mask drop, he's actually a decent person."

"He's hardly a saint, Harry."

"I know that, I just don't think he's the devil incarnate either. We're none of us perfect; we all have our demons. He's not the person you think he is. I don't know if he's always been like this deep down or if it was the war that changed him – but he's different."

Harry slumped down into a nearby chair and looked up at the frizzy-haired girl. "I love you and Ron; you're like family to me. The last thing I want is to lose your friendship, but I will not be dictated to, not by either of you. And I will not be forced into choosing between you and Draco."

"But you are choosing, don't you see."

Harry shook his head stubbornly. "No, I don't see. As far as I'm concerned, there is no choice to be made. You and Ron are my friends and so is Draco. There is no reason why I cannot be friends with all three of you, and if Ron can't accept that... well, then he is the one making the choice, not me."

Hermione sank into the seat next to him shaking her head sadly. "I'm just worried. We've been through so much together and now it's falling apart." She took hold of Harry's hand. "I don't want to lose you."

"Then don't," Harry said simply. He freed his hand from Hermione's grasp and got up out of the chair.

As he turned away from his friend, he heard her speak once more. "What about Ginny? Don't you care how she feels seeing you and Pansy Parkinson together all the time."

Harry turned back to face her slowly, his irritation beginning to show.

"Hermione, have you listened to a word I've just said? Who I choose to spend time with is nobodies business but mine. I like Pansy. She's fun and we have a laugh, that's all you or anybody needs to know."

Harry exited the Gryffindor common room quickly, before he lost the fragile grip he had on his temper. He didn't turn back to see the hurt look on Hermione's face, nor did he see the look of pure fury on Ginny Weasley's face as she got up from the chair she had been hiding in, listening to Harry talk.

Draco sat at the Slytherin table, forking listlessly at his breakfast. Pansy stared across the table at her friend, concern evident in her eyes.

"Draco," she started, "Are you ok?"

The blond head snapped up to meet her gaze. "I'm fine," he answered shortly.

Pansy tried again. "Are you sure? Only Blaise said..."

"Well, Blaise has a big fucking mouth," Draco cut Pansy off mid sentence and then turned to glare at the Italian boy sitting to his left.

Blaise, for his part, kept his head high and refused to be cowed by the ferocity of his friend's words or gaze. "I only told Pansy, she won't tell anyone else."

Draco let out a harsh laugh at this. "You have met Pansy, haven't Blaise? Dark hair, tits and a big fucking mouth!"

"Hey!" Pansy shrieked, digging Draco in the ribs with her elbow

Blaise fixed his friend with a cool stare. "Don't take it out on Pansy, she's just concerned about you, we both are."

"Well you can both just mind your own bloody business." The snap in Draco's tone drew curious looks from down the Slytherin table, which did not go unnoticed.

"This isn't the place, we'll discuss this later," Pansy murmured.

"Like fuck we will." Draco gave both his friends a patented Malfoy death glare, which clearly indicated that the conversation was over.

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, no one really wanting to be the first to break the uneasy ceasefire. Pansy looked up at this point and noticed Harry walking into the room. Seeing that Draco hadn't noticed the Gryffindor's arrival, she gave her friend a nudge. Draco looked up and followed Pansy's gaze over to the other side of the hall. When his eyes met a pair of green ones staring right back at him, a smile lit up his face.

Draco tore his gaze away from Harry, looking down at his plate in an attempt to hide the slight flush he knew was colouring his face. Sensing that now might be a good time to get back on her friends good side, Pansy leaned in and whispered in Draco's ear.

"Are you going to ask Harry to go to Hogsmeade with you?"

Draco looked up, eyes wide in surprise. When he had seen the notice that morning he had thought it would be nice to invite Harry along, but he had meant with the group of them. Pansy was clearly suggesting that he should ask Harry on a date, just the two of them. The idea did have its appeal, Draco could see that, but the negatives more than outweighed this.

Draco knew that the wizarding world wouldn't have much of an objection to two boys being together like that. It was more likely to be who the two boys were that would cause the outrage. To the public, Harry was their Saviour and Draco was nothing more than a Death Eater, regardless of what the Wizengamot had ruled.

"I don't think so," Draco answered. Then seeing the surprise in the girl's eyes, he continued, "I'll ask him to come with us, but I think it's just a bit public for the two of us to be seen on a date!"

Pansy nodded slowly. "You're probably right."

Pansy carried on speaking but Draco had ceased to listen. His eyes were once again trained discreetly on the Gryffindor table, watching Harry as he chatted to his friends. He watched as a pretty barn owl swooped down and dropped a letter in front of the green-eyed boy.

Draco noticed as the smile faded from Harry's face; how he folded up the letter with a pained expression and pushed his half-eaten breakfast away. Harry sat for a few moments, looking a little lost and it took all of Draco's restraint not to go over and hug the other boy. He could have cursed Harry's friends, as not one of them had seemed to notice the change in his mood.

Draco turned to Pansy and was about to ask her what she thought it meant, when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry get up abruptly and leave the Great Hall. Draco sat for a moment, trying to decide whether to follow him or not. An exasperated sigh from Pansy caught his attention.

"For Merlin's sake, Draco, would you just go after him? Look, Blaise and I will even walk out with you so it doesn't look obvious."

Blaise looked up at this from his heaped plate of food. "But Pansy," he whined. The glare on the face of the dark-haired girl was enough to make him reconsider any objection he had been about to raise. Snatching a sausage from his plate, he cast a longing look at his breakfast before getting to his feet.Once he was in the Entrance Hall, Draco realised he had left it too late, there was no sign of Harry anywhere. After a brief pause, Draco decided his best option was to head up to the seventh floor and hope that Harry was heading back to Gryffindor tower.

He ran up the stairs as fast as he could, making sure to miss the trick steps along the way. Finally, out of breath, he reached the seventh floor and was rewarded with the sight of a messy-haired figure leaning, dejectedly, against the wall.

Surprised green eyes looked up just as Draco attempted to smooth his ruffled hair. Harry smiled at the blond boy but Draco didn't miss the fact that it never quite reached his eyes.

"Harry, there you are. I don't know how you put up with all those stairs every day."

Harry shrugged and pushed away from the wall, walking closer to the Slytherin. "Sorry, I didn't realise you were following me. Did you want something?"

"What, other than your body?" Draco couldn't resist teasing.

Harry gave him a playful slap on the arm but didn't speak, he just stood looking at Draco calmly, waiting for an answer. Draco squirmed under the intensity of the Gryffindor's gaze and for once found himself slightly tongue-tied.

"It's just...well, I saw..."Draco cursed silently, who would have known that just standing next to Harry could rob him of the power of speech. He looked at the other boy and found him watching, one eyebrow quirked.

"You had that letter and you looked upset. I just wanted to see if you were OK and if you wanted to talk about it or something. Not that you have to. I mean, if you don't want to that's fine, I understand."

Draco was cut short here as Harry lent forward and brushed their lips together. "You're babbling, Dray." This time the smile reached those bright green eyes and Draco felt rewarded for the long climb up the stairs.

"I think I would like to talk about it," Harry said thoughtfully. "I don't know if I can though, it's not really something I'm used to doing. I'd like to try with you though."

"I'd like that, Harry," Draco replied sincerely. He felt the Gryffindor tug at his arm. "C'mon, I know the perfect place."

Draco followed Harry along the seventh floor corridor, wondering where on earth they were going. All too soon, Draco knew exactly where they were heading but Harry didn't seem to sense his reluctance. As they stopped by the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, Harry turned round to speak. The words died on his lips as he took in the look of barely concealed anguish on the blond's face. He placed a hand uncertainly on Draco's shoulder.

"Draco, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." As Harry followed Draco's gaze, he found it was fixed on the door to the Room of Requirement and suddenly things fell into place.

"Crabbe," Harry whispered softly.

"Amongst other things," Draco answered bitterly. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I just can't go in there, it's just too...I just can't."

Harry took a quick look over his shoulder to ensure they were alone, then stepped forward and pulled Draco into a warm hug. "I'm so sorry," he whispered against the blond's ear. "I didn't think."

Draco stepped back, shaking his head slightly. "It's OK, you weren't to know. Let's just go somewhere else, please."

"We could go outside? At least no one could overhear us." Harry looked at the Slytherin boy, concern evident in his eyes.

Draco took hold of Harry's arm and began to lead him back down the corridor. "Stop making puppy eyes at me, Potter, I'm fine." Then, seeing Harry open his mouth to speak, he added, "If you apologise again, I swear I will hex you."

Harry grinned at this. "Ah, random threats of violence, now I know you're alright."

Draco hesitated as they arrived at the portrait the fat lady. "I'm not going in there," he stated firmly.

Harry, already halfway through the hole, turned round. "C'mon, it'll be fine; all the others are at breakfast still. I have to go in; I need a cloak if we are going outside." His eyes ran over Draco. "So do you for that matter. Now you can either come inside with me or wait out here on your own."

That settled it for Draco. He placed his hand on the small of Harry's back and gave a small shove. "Come on, Potter, what are you waiting for?"

They made their way quickly across the room, up the stairs and into the boys' dormitory. As Harry moved towards the wardrobe, Draco made his way over to what he presumed was Harry's bed and sank down on it.

He watched Harry as he rifled through his belongings. "So, who was the letter from?" Harry exited the wardrobe holding two dark winter cloaks and wordlessly passed the letter to him. Draco opened it quickly and a photograph contained within fluttered to the floor. Bending down to pick it up, the breath caught in Draco's throat and he spoke with a slight shake to his voice."Harry," he wavered, "Why do you have a picture of my Aunt Bellatrix?" Draco looked at Harry, his eyes full of confusion, accusation and, Harry thought, fear too.Harry reached out and took the picture from the blond's shaking fingers. Although he knew perfectly well who the picture was of, he couldn't stop the brief moment of panic that rose within him at Draco's words. Nor could he help the wave of relief that swept through him when he glanced at the picture and didn't find the crazed eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange glaring back at him.

Realising that grey eyes were still fixed on him waiting for an explanation, Harry sat back on the bed and held the picture out to Draco, who took it reluctantly.

"It's not her." Harry paused, then seeing the blond readying to argue this point, he continued, "It is your Aunt, just not that one."

Draco was looking more confused than ever, "Will you stop being so cryptic Harry. If that's not Bellatrix," a slight shudder ran trough him at just saying the name, "Then who the hell is it?"

Harry took pity on the Slytherin's frayed nerves. "It's Andromeda Tonks, she's your mother's other sister."

Harry didn't miss the faint flash of relief that crossed Draco's face, before he swiftly put his Malfoy mask firmly back in place.

"Who's the baby?" Draco looked closer at the picture. "And why does it have blue hair?"

Harry chuckled at this. "That's her grandson, Teddy. He's a Metamorphmagus, like his mum was." The smile died from Harry's eyes with these words, a fact that was not lost on Draco.

"Was?" he queried.

"Yeah, she died in the final battle," Harry answered softly.

Something tugged at Draco's memory and for a moment, he found himself back at Malfoy Manor, seated around a table with Death Eaters. There was a faint echo of catcalls and jeers and then Voldemort was there, talking to him. Draco felt a moment of terror as he remembered the cold red eyes fixed on him, asking him if he would baby-sit his cousin's cubs now that she had married the werewolf.

Draco shook his head, trying to remove the taint of his memories. He turned to Harry and saw that he was looking at him in concern.

"Draco, are you OK?" Harry's hand slid over to Draco's leg and rested gently on his thigh.

"I'm fine, really. Just bad memories." He looked down at the picture of the chubby smiling baby and then back to the green-eyed boy at his side.

"I don't understand, why would this make you sad? They both look happy enough."

"That's only because Teddy is too young to know what he's lost. He doesn't understand that both his parents are dead and that it's..."

"That it's what, Harry?" Draco questioned. Harry refused to meet his gaze, his eyes fixed instead on the floor. The blond watched him in silence for a few moments before he understood what Harry had been going to say.

"It's your fault. That's what you were going to say wasn't it?" Draco reached out a hand and gently turned Harry's face to look at him.

"Harry, did you kill his parents?" No reply came from the Gryffindor other than a slight shake of the head. "So why would you say it's your fault?"

"Because it is. Voldemort was after me, no one else. They died, all those people died, because I took so long to finish it. If I had just been quicker..."

Draco cut Harry off here the only way he knew how, by pressing his lips against the dark-haired boy's and kissing him gently.

"Stupid Gryffindor," Draco murmured as he lightly stroked his hand down Harry's flushed cheek. "You did more than anyone had a right to expect from you." Draco laid a finger on Harry's lips at this point, forbidding the Gryffindor from arguing this point.

"I know you don't believe me when I say it isn't your fault. But I just want you to know that I'm going to keep on saying it until you do. So don't argue with me on this, because you won't win."

Harry managed a faint smile at this and teasingly parted his lips and took Draco's finger into his mouth, sucking it lightly. He watched as the blond boy's eyelids fluttered closed briefly, before grey eyes were staring at him, dark with lust.

"I think you had better stop doing that, or your roommates are going to be in for quite a shock when they come back." Draco shifted his position slightly in an effort to hide his burgeoning erection.

Harry pulled his lips off Draco's finger with a 'pop' and grinned sheepishly at the blond.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself."

Draco stood up and took one of the cloaks, slipping it round his shoulders. "Come on, we'd better get going. Breakfast must be about over and I don't imagine that my presence would go down overly well with the rest of Gryffindor."

"That's only because they don't know you like I do," Harry said, a cheeky grin on his face

"Yes, well I hadn't exactly planned on dry humping my way through Gryffindor house in a bid to raise my popularity. Although it might be kind of funny to see the Weasel's face if I tried it with him."

A laugh escaped Harry's lips and he lightly smacked Draco on the arm. "Deviant!" he accused. Then he stood up and headed for the door, looking back over his shoulder at Draco, a smirk on his face.

"Come on, we'll go down to the Quidditch pitch. There'll be no one there and you can work on increasing your popularity with me some more!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at this. "I thought we were going to talk?"Harry simply shrugged. "Talking's overrated!"


	23. Hogsmeade

The next week passed in a blur to Harry, filled with whispered conversations and stolen moments. Draco had stayed true to his word and had not pushed Harry into anything he was not ready for, and the blond himself was rather enjoying the slow build up in their relationship.

Not that either of the boys had qualified what they shared as a relationship yet. Each of them was too fearful of rejection by the other to bring the topic up.

Harry had been spending less and less time in Gryffindor, something that hadn't gone unnoticed by his housemates. Although, the fact that Neville was usually with him at these times kept the majority of people's suspicions at bay.

The two Gryffindors could usually be found in the Slytherin common room. Harry felt most at home here, like he could relax and just be himself. The Slytherins didn't raise even an eyebrow at the sight of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter holding hands, and they were even less concerned at the sight of Blaise and Neville.

Harry still couldn't quite believe the pleasure he derived from simple actions such as holding Draco's hand or feeling the blond's fingers run through his hair. Having been raised in an emotionally abusive home, tactile behaviour such as this was completely alien to him.

Harry felt happier and more relaxed than he had in years. He noticed that his nightmares were becoming less frequent, he was sleeping better, and in the last week he had not once felt the compulsion to hurt himself. Saturday morning found Harry and Neville waiting patiently by the door in the Great Hall. The Slytherins were late and this was doing nothing to lessen Harry's nervousness. His palms were clammy and his stomach was threatening to repel his breakfast at any minute.

Although this wasn't technically a date, Harry knew that this was as close to one as he and Draco would come, given current circumstances. He wished he could just grab hold of that famed Gryffindor courage and walk hand in hand through the streets of Hogsmeade with Draco. But Harry knew that neither of them was ready to deal with the ramifications of that just yet.

Harry's pockets weighed heavily with the large number of Galleons he had brought in readiness for his shopping trip. Harry had sounded Pansy out about his planned makeover and she had leapt at the chance to help him spend his money. She had stated that if there was one thing she loved more than spending her own money, it was spending someone else's.

Just as the Gryffindors were about to give up hope that their friends were coming, the sound of bickering voices floated their way.

"For Merlin's sake, Pansy, would you hurry up? We're going to be late."

"We're already late, Draco, thanks to the fact that you spent the best part of an hour trying on every set of robes that you own, some of them more than once."

Harry smiled at the outraged look on Draco's face as the group of friends approached. He stood next to the blond and leant to whisper in his ear.

"Don't listen to her, I think you look great."

"I heard that, Harry Potter. Don't you start encouraging him; he's vain enough as it is." Harry chuckled at Pansy's words and linked his arm through the girl's, leading the small group of friends out of the main door.

They turned left out of the school gates onto the village road. Draco walked close to Harry's side, allowing their hands to brush together, sending tingles through each of their bodies. Pansy, whose arm was still linked with Harry's, was practically dragging the two boys in the direction of Hogsmeade.

"Show some restraint, Pansy, you're acting like some peasant who's never seen shops before."

Although Pansy flushed at this rebuke, she turned a steady gaze on her friend, a determined set to her jaw."Yes, well, spending four months cooped up in St bloody Mungo's will do that to you."It was Draco's turn to look shame faced at his friend's words. He opened his mouth to apologise but Pansy dismissed it with a quick wave of her hand.

"It's OK. I know you didn't mean any harm by it. I suppose I am acting a little Hufflepuffish, but it's not every day a girl gets to go on a spending spree with someone else's money."

Draco fixed her with a glare at this. "Pansy, dear, you're like a sister to me but if you think I'm going to let you loose in Hogsmeade with my money, then I suggest you seriously reconsider.

"Don't be so silly, it's not your money I'm planning to spend, its Harry's."

The blond looked ready to explode, much to the other two's amusement. "You will not be spending Harry's money," Draco said in a very controlled voice. "You're not taking advantage of his good nature."

Both Harry and Pansy were smiling at him, which caused his temper to fray further. "What?" he huffed.

"Isn't he adorable when he pouts?" Pansy stage whispered to Harry, who simply nodded and grinned back at the outraged looking blond.

"Yes, yes, Draco, I know. We've already covered the whole 'Malfoy's are not adorable' speech several times. Now stop sulking for a minute and listen." Pansy smirked."Harry," Draco almost whined, "You're not to spend money on her, she's evil and she picks on me."

Harry grinned at this, and reached over a hand to ruffle the blond's hair affectionately. "Relax, Dray, Pansy's not spending my money on herself, she's going help me pick some new clothes out."

Draco stopped at this and looked at the other two, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I don't think so," he stated firmly.

Harry walked the few steps back to where the Slytherin stood, confused by his reaction.

"It won't take long, I promise. I'm not exactly keen on shopping."

"We'll be as quick as we can, Drakie, Slytherin's honour!"

Draco's lips quirked in a smile at this. "I think that's what they call a contradiction in terms, Pans. Besides," he added stubbornly, "that's not the problem."

"Well, what is then?" Pansy was pouting now, sensing the loss of a long awaited shopping trip.

Calm grey eyes bored into her. "If anyone's going to take my boyfriend shopping for new clothes it will be me. Besides, I've seen some of the clothes you encouraged Blaise to buy and I don't think that the 'rent boy' look is really Harry!"

Pansy glared at Draco in mock outrage. "Fine, I'll go and offer help to people who appreciate my talents." She turned away from them, giving a quick grin to Harry, and headed off after Blaise and Neville.

Draco turned to look at Harry and found that the dark-haired boy was staring at him, his mouth gaping open slightly.

"What's wrong?"

In reply, Harry simply took hold of Draco's arm and pulled him down the alley at the side of the Three Broomsticks. "What are you doing?" Draco questioned, slightly disturbed by the Gryffindor's behaviour. Again, Harry didn't answer his question, he was too busy rummaging in his bag. Just as Draco was about to snap at him, Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak from his bag and draped it over both their heads.

Draco felt the liquid softness of the Cloak surround him and he looked at Harry with amusement dancing in his eyes. Before he could open his mouth to ask what was going on, Harry's hands were on his shoulders pressing lightly and Draco found his back pressed up against a wall.

Harry's hands slid up to cup Draco's face and he leaned in to kiss him. His tongue slid easily between the blond's shocked lips, probing the depths of Draco's mouth. As Harry felt Draco's tongue flick against his own, he let out a soft moan. He slid one hand to the back of Draco's neck, his fingers playing with the wisps of blond hair.

Harry was vaguely aware of Draco's hands slipping inside his cloak and running up and down his sides. Harry ended the kiss, his breath heavy, and smiled up at Draco through dark lashes.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what did I do to deserve that?" the blond gasped.

Harry squirmed for a moment, looking down at his feet. Draco's hands cupped his face and tilted his head till he was looking into almost silver eyes. "Tell me, Harry," he whispered, before lightly kissing the tip of the Gryffindor's nose.

Harry couldn't help but scrunch his nose up at that and Draco smiled down at him. There was such affection in the blond's eyes and Harry felt at that moment that he could tell him anything.

"You called me your boyfriend," he answered in a tone that dared the other boy to laugh at him.

Draco laced their fingers together and brought one hand to his lips, kissing it gently. "I only wish I could tell everyone.

Harry melted at this. He dropped his forehead to lean against Draco's and wrapped his arms around the blond boy's neck.

"Can we just stay like this?" he pleaded.

Draco placed one last soft kiss on Harry's lips before pulling back regretfully.

"We'd better go. Pansy will start to have a fit if we don't show up soon. As it is, we will have to endure an interrogation that would make an Auror blush."

Harry smiled at this and reluctantly stepped out of the embrace. He pulled the Cloak off them and safely stowed it back in his bag. For a brief moment he was tempted to push Draco back up against the wall, and everyone else be damned. But not even his Gryffindor side was ready for a move so bold, just yet.Several hours later and Harry thought he would be eternally happy if he never heard the word shopping again.

In the end, Draco had relented and agreed to allow Pansy to accompany them, though he did reserve the right to have final say on any outfit. Harry merely stood by patiently while the two Slytherins rifled through rack after rack of clothing, thrusting items into his outstretched hands.

He was marched in and out of changing rooms, made to twirl round while he was examined critically and had his dignity reduced on several occasions when one, or both of his companions insisted on helping him dress.

The final straw had come for Harry when, stripped down to his underwear, Pansy had burst into the changing room and left the door open long enough for a blushing Hannah Abbot to catch sight of him.

The two Slytherins had found it extremely amusing when the Hufflepuff girl had let out a small squeak and hurried out of Gladrags as if a heard of angry centaurs were after her.

Finally Draco was satisfied that Harry was equipped with everything the modern Wizard could possibly need and the Gryffindor gratefully made his escape,

They headed next to Honeydukes where Harry saw for himself the true extent of Draco's sweet tooth. He stood by amazed as the blond scooped up box after box of various chocolates.

Draco noticed the look on his boyfriend's face and glared at him defensively."What?"

Whatever reply Harry was going to make was unheard as the door to the shop opened and Ron and Hermione entered. Harry looked at his old friends nervously, unsure of what reaction he was going to get.

The last thing he wanted was for Ron and Draco to get into another fight. He needn't have worried however, as the redhead walked straight past him as if he wasn't there. A mixture of relief and hurt swept through Harry at this, and he noticed that Draco was watching Ron with narrowed eyes, just waiting for him to say something.

Hermione smiled at Harry and offered a tentative hello. For the life of him, Draco could not prevent the sneer that crossed his face as he looked at the bushy- haired girl. In some ways he blamed Hermione far more than Ron for their current behaviour towards Harry.

The way Draco saw it, the Weasel was an idiot, so his behaviour was to be expected. Hermione, on the other hand, was anything but stupid. Draco could tell by her expression that she was uncomfortable with the tension, yet she did nothing to stop her boyfriend's behaviour.

Draco stepped closer to Harry, sensing his hurt, and placed a soothing hand on the small of his back. The touch ended almost as soon as it started, but Harry found took comfort in it. Draco grabbed several more boxes of chocolates before heading to the till to pay.As they walked out of the shop, Draco saw Harry grinning at him and looked questioningly at the dark-haired boy.Harry smiled. "I never realised my boyfriend was such a greedy pig" he whispered.

Draco arched an eyebrow, "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that."

Harry leant against Pansy and chuckled as Draco stalked off ahead of them.

When they finally caught up to the blond, he was standing outside the Three Broomsticks, looking at the door apprehensively. Harry placed a hand on his elbow. "It'll be OK, you know?" he said, understanding Draco's discomfort.

Pansy came to stand at Draco's other side. "Madam Rosemerta isn't even here anymore, Draco. You have as much right to go in there as anyone."

Draco shrugged noncommittally. "I suppose so, it's just that I haven't been in here since then and it just brought it all back."

Harry pushed the door open firmly and took hold of Draco's arm. "C'mon, I think you could use a drink."

Once inside, the three friends were waved over by Neville, who was sat in a corner booth with Blaise. Harry sent the other two over to the table with all his shopping, while he made his way to the bar.

As he was waiting to be served, he felt a tap on the shoulder. As he turned round to see who it was, he was greeted by the sight of George Weasley's grinning face. Harry felt himself tense slightly under the brief hug he received, uncomfortable memories of the last time they had met coming back to him unbidden.

George simply grinned at him some more. "Harry, how are you doing? Glad you decided to go back to school?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I am," he admitted slowly. "Not that I wouldn't have enjoyed helping you out in the shop though."

"It's OK, you don't have to protect my feelings, I can take it"

Harry smiled at the redhead and found that he was once again relaxed in George's company. He realised that it would be stupid to let that one night come in the way of their friendship.

"Talking of the shop, shouldn't you be there now? Who's running it for you, and for that matter, why are you here?"

"Blimey, Harry, slow down. In answer to your questions; no, I shouldn't be there. I have a very helpful young lady working for me, who takes great care of the shop when I'm not there. As to the reason why I am here, I have decided that it is time to do the one thing that Fred and I always dreamed of doing. Sort of as a tribute to him."

Harry thought for a moment and then turned wide eyes to his friend. "You're buying Zonko's?" It was more of a statement than a question.

George only grinned widely at him and nodded. Harry, all of his earlier awkwardness forgotten, wrapped his arms round his friend in a warm hug.

"Congratulations, I'm really happy for you. Does that mean we'll be seeing a lot more of you around here from now on?"

George nodded, "Yes, I want to be here for a while to get set up properly. Plus, it gives me a chance to keep my eye on Ron and Ginny." He looked meaningfully at Harry as he spoke.

Harry hung his head slightly, waiting for the rebuke he thought was coming. "You've heard then?" he murmured.

"That my brother is acting like a complete arse? Yes, I have heard it mentioned once or twice. Pay no attention to him, none of us do when he gets like this."

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I suppose," he muttered.

"Suppose nothing," George retorted, "You know I'm right." He paused here as he looked across the room and caught the heated gaze of his youngest sibling. George turned back to Harry and spoke thoughtfully

"Ron's an idiot, its Ginny you want to watch out for."

Harry looked up, puzzled by this comment.

"You have to understand how she is. Ginny grew up the only girl with six older brothers; she was spoilt and indulged by all of us. She's used to getting her own way."

Harry's gaze drifted over to the corner and fell onto Draco. "Sounds like someone else I know."

George followed Harry's gaze and grinned madly at the dark-haired boy. "Yes, but unlike someone else, Ginny isn't currently getting what she wants!"

Harry laughed at this for a split second, before the implication of George's words and smug grin hit him.

"What...how..."he stammered

"Please, Harry. I lost an ear not an eye. And I would have to be blind to miss the looks that keep shooting in my direction."

Harry looked over his shoulder and saw that Draco was indeed staring at them with narrowed eyes. He smiled weakly at his boyfriend before turning back to face the redhead. "You won't tell anyone will you, George? I'm not...we're not ready for anyone to know yet."

George looked slightly offended that Harry even had to ask the question. "Of course I won't."

He paused here and looked speculatively from the suspicious looking blond to the nervous looking boy in front of him. "Are you sure you know what you're doing? This is Malfoy we're talking about."

Harry raised his head and met George's gaze determinedly. "Yes, I know what I'm doing. And it's not Malfoy, its Draco."

Harry stopped at this point to give his order to the barmaid. When he turned back, it was to find George smiling warmly at him.

"I'm pleased for you. I must admit I was a bit concerned that you were in denial after our... well, you know. But it seems I was wrong."

Harry's drinks arrived at this point; he handed to money over to pay for them.

"I'd better get these over to them."

"Yes, I suppose so. I imagine he's not one to be kept waiting!"

Harry chuckled at this and, after a quick farewell, headed over to where his friends were waiting.He sat down in the seat next to Draco and felt the other boy move closer to him, until their legs were flush together from hip to knee. Harry felt a hand slip on to his thigh and fingers begin lightly stroking circles. He looked at Draco, but the Slytherin refused to meet his gaze, continuing to chat with his friends as if nothing was happening.

Harry tried to join in the conversation, but was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate as Draco's hand inched higher up his thigh. Harry was all too aware of just how tight his trousers were becoming and he had to shift in his seat several times to ease the pressure.

Eventually, unable to take it any longer, Harry made his excuses and headed off for the toilets. He stayed in there for several minutes, willing his erection to go down. In the end, only the image of Hagrid in women's underwear was able to undo the damage that Draco's fingers had caused.

When Harry returned to the table, he found Draco smirking at him wildly.

"Are you OK? You seemed a little distracted earlier?"

Harry mumbled something that barely passed for a reply and sat back down, a little further away from Draco this time. It didn't help that Pansy was sitting across the table, grinning knowingly at Harry, as if she had every idea of what had just taken place. And worse still, it occurred to Harry, that she probably though he had just disappeared for a wank in the toilets.

Despite the increased distance between him and Draco, the blond boy seemed to find every available opportunity to touch Harry, and it was driving the dark-haired boy crazy. It was all Harry could do not to throw Draco down on the table and straddle him right there in front of a pub full of people.

Harry had never been more grateful than when Pansy suggested that they return back to the castle. Gathering up his shopping, Harry offered up silent thanks that his robes draped loosely over him, hiding his obvious erection.

As they got up to go, Harry stood close to Draco, allowing his bulge to press lightly against the other boy's leg.

"I'll make you pay for that later," he whispered.

Harry felt Draco press against him, teasing him further.

"I'm counting on it," the blond smirked.


	24. Ken And Barbie

The walk back from Hogsmeade proved extremely frustrating for both Harry and Draco.

They had started out walking close together in an attempt to recreate the light touches of earlier. However, this time the fates had other ideas - or rather Pansy Parkinson did. She insinuated herself between the two boys, happily linking arms with them both, blissfully unaware of the sexual undercurrent.

Harry tried hard to focus on Pansy's idle chatter but his thigh still burned from Draco's earlier touch and his erection showed every sign of becoming a permanent feature.

He looked across to Draco and was relieved to find that the blonde was similarly distracted. His hair was looking increasingly dishevelled as he repeatedly raked his hand through it absentmindedly.

Harry didn't miss the knowing smirk that Blaise shot in their direction, or the sympathetic smile that came from Neville. Pansy, on the other hand, remained completely oblivious.

Harry found time to marvel at how quickly his life was changing. Two months ago he hadn't even thought to question the fact that he was straight. And yet here he was, with a raging hard on because Draco Malfoy, his boyfriend, had done nothing more sexual than stroke his leg.

Worldly wise in many ways, Harry was completely inexperienced sexually. His night with George had been as far as he had ever gone with anyone, male or female. The Gryffindor had a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach that Draco had far more experience and would be left disappointed with his amateurish fumblings.

Harry remembered feeling nervous with Ginny. Apart from kissing and some over the clothes touching, they had gone no further. Not from a lack of trying on Ginny's part, Harry reflected. The girl had tried on several occasions to initiate more intimate activities but Harry had always pulled away, racked with insecurity.

And if he had been nervous about sex with girls, which he knew quite a lot of theory about, the thought of sex with boys , with Draco, terrified him. Apart from a basic anatomical understanding of what went where, Harry's knowledge of gay sex was nonexistent.

It wasn't like he had anyone he could turn to for advice, he reflected bitterly. His parents, Sirius, Remus, they were all gone. Although, if Harry was honest, he found the thought of discussing his sex life with any of them slightly disturbing. The only other parental figures that remained were Mr & Mrs Weasley, and the thought of asking them advice on gay sex was, frankly, wrong.

That left him with one possible option – George. Harry figured that he couldn't really be that squeamish about discussing sex with the redhead, not considering what they had done together. And even if it was a little uncomfortable, it would be worth it to please Draco when the time came for them to take their relationship to the next level. Harry determined to write to George as soon as he got back to school.

Once back at Hogwarts the group of friends went their separate ways, leaving Harry and Draco increasingly frustrated.

Harry cast one last longing look at the retreating back of his boyfriend before following Neville up to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was full of students, all chattering excitedly about their day in Hogsmeade. Harry grinned at the sight of Hermione's disapproving face as she watched the younger Gryffindors gleefully examining their latest Zonkos purchase.

Harry headed up to his bedroom along with Neville. He removed his shrunken shopping bags from his pockets and swiftly resized them. Neville gaped in amazement at the sheer number of them.

"Blimey, Harry, did you leave anything for anyone else?"Harry smiled ruefully. "You try shopping with Draco, it was like he was possessed, and Pansy wasn't much better."

Harry began to carefully unpack his purchases and put them away in his wardrobe.

"Apparently my normal clothes are completely hideous and I'm under strict orders to dispose of the lot."

Neville chuckled at this. "He may have a bit of a point, mate. Your cousin's cast offs were never going to set the fashion world alight!"

Harry paused in the middle of hanging his new formal robes and looked curiously at his friend. "When did you become so interested in clothes? You never used to be."

Neville shrugged. "You're not the only one dating an image conscious Slytherin. Besides, I'm gay; it's part of the package."Harry looked ruefully down at his baggy worn jeans and scuffed trainers. "It's not a part that I got," he commented mournfully.

"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. I'm fairly sure that Malfoy will take care of that side of things for you from now on."

"I'm not a bloody doll," Harry huffed, still smarting a little from Draco's earlier comments about his current clothing.

But then he reflected that Draco hadn't actually mentioned his clothes until after Harry had already decided that he needed a makeover. Draco had liked him as he was, Dudley's cast offs and all. Harry had done this with the intention of looking good for his boyfriend, so he couldn't really get mad that Draco had been a little too enthusiastic.

Harry was brought from his musing by the sound of Seamus entering the room. The Irish boy flopped down on his bed and groaned loudly.

"Next Hogsmeade weekend I'm coming with you guys. I've just spend half the day watching Dean and Luna paw each other like love sick puppys, and I spent the rest of it listening to that girl ramble on about Blibbering Humdingers, or some such crap. I swear she was doing it on purpose to wind me up!"

Harry and Neville laughed at this, both being only too familiar with Luna's theories on various mythical creatures. Seamus huffed in indignation.

"Some friends you are, laughing at my misery." Then, catching sight of the bags on Harry's bed he sat up. "You went shopping," he stated, an interested tone creeping into his voice. Seamus clambered off his bed and began rifling through Harry's purchases.

"Wow, Harry! There's some really nice stuff in here." His eyes fell on the pile of Harry's old clothes and an exaggerated shudder ran through his body. "About time too."

Harry threw his hands up in mock despair. "Is there anyone in this place who doesn't think I dress worse than Filch?"

"No one thinks that, Harry. But you're a good looking lad and this will just give the rest of us a chance to appreciate the body you've been hiding under these baggy things." There was a leer in Seamus' eyes as they ran slowly the length of Harry's body.

Neville sensed the green eyed boy's discomfort and glared at Seamus. "Behave," he said firmly.

Seamus reluctantly dragged his eyes back up to Harry's face. "Sorry mate, but I'm only human."

Harry shrugged it off, not really wanting to dwell on the fact that he was being eyed up by one of his best friends. He watched as the Irish boy went over to the wardrobe and began rummaging through the clothes Harry had already put away, a fanatical gleam in his eye.

Harry shook his head and groaned quietly. "Not you too, Seamus. When did everyone round here become obsessed with clothes?"

Seamus pulled his head back out of the wardrobe for a moment to look at his friend. "I'm bisexual; it comes with the gay genes - and speaking of jeans." He extracted a pair of inky blue low cut jeans and thrust them in Harry's direction, "You have to wear these tonight. I bet Malfoy's eyes would pop out of his head at the sight of you in them."

Harry froze at his friends words. "Why would Draco care what I wore?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Seamus looked back at him with an amused grin on his face. "Come on Harry, I'm not stupid. I've seen the way he looks at you. And don't forget I was there that night in the dungeons when you had your head in his lap."

Harry struggled to hide the blush that threatened to cover his face and looked helplessly at Neville.

"It's alright, I won't say anything. I'm just a bit gutted that by the time I find out you like boys, you're already taken! Still, if you ever get tired of snakes and want to try a lion, I'm only in the next bed!"

Harry let out what can only be described as a squeak before disappearing into the bathroom quickly.By the time Harry came out of the shower, he found that not only were the jeans laid out on his bed but that they had been joined by a soft black form fitting shirt. Picking them up off the bed, he turned to his two grinning roommates,"I feel like a bloody Ken doll with everyone dressing me."

Seamus smirked at this. "If you're Ken, does that mean Malfoy is Barbie?"

Even Harry had to laugh at the mental image that conjured in his mind. "I wouldn't let Draco ever hear you say that Seamus, he's liable to hex you into next week."

Neville sat watching this with a confused look on his face.

"Don't worry, it's a Muggle thing," Harry explained as he began to pull on his new clothes. As he was buttoning up the shirt, Seamus walked over and stood in front of him. "Leave those bottom couple of buttons undone, Harry," he advised.

Harry was about to ignore his friends advice when Neville came over too, looking him up and down. "Shay's right. Leave the bottom two undone, that way you can just see your stomach."

Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror, the tight jeans were slung low on his hips and now a flash of toned stomach was visible where his shirt was undone. He felt completely out of his comfort zone and would have given just about anything to pull on one of his old baggy jumpers.

"Why would I want to see my stomach?" he questioned, looking at his friends reflections.

"You might not want to, but I can think of a certain blond Slytherin who will more than appreciate it."

Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks for what must have been the 30th time that day. Muttering something about having a letter to send, he spun on his heel and headed off out of the room.When Harry entered the Great Hall for dinner that evening, he knew instantly, without looking, that all eyes had turned to him. He cursed himself for being late. He had struggled for ages to write the brief note he had sent to George and now the whole school was there to watch him as he walked nervously towards the Gryffindor table, dressed in his new clothes.

A rather loud wolf whistle broke the silence that his arrival had created and Harry sank down into his seat at the side of Neville, quietly dying of embarrassment.

"I should never have listened to you." He glared at his two roommates.

"I don't see what the problem is, people are just showing their appreciation of your new look."

Harry nervously raised his eyes to the rest of the room. They settled on the Hufflepuff table, where a blushing Hannah Abbott was staring at him. She caught Harry's gaze and smiled nervously at him before turning to Ernie Macmillan and whispering in his ear.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as the Hufflepuff boy turned an appraising look on him and ever so slightly licked his lips.

None of this went unnoticed by Draco, who was sat seething at the Slytherin table plotting nasty ways to punish Ernie for daring to look at Harry that way.

Pansy laughed at the outraged expression on his face and narrowed silver eyes turned to glare at his.

"This is all your fault I hope you realise," he snapped.

"My fault? How do you work that one out?"

"You're the one who left that changing room door open so that Hufflepuff bitch could ogle Harry. Now she's told Macmillan about it and he's coming on to my boyfriend."Pansy made a dismissive noise, "Oh please Draco. As if Harry has eyes for anyone but you. Does he look like he's enjoying the attention?"

"No," Draco admitted reluctantly. "But I don't like everyone drooling over him."

"You have to admit he looks hot though." Draco turned a fierce glare on Blaise at this.

"You keep your eyes on your own Gryffindor, Zabini."

Despite his annoyance, Draco had to admit to himself that Harry did indeed, look hot. The only thing that he could imagine would look better than his boyfriend in that outfit, would be his boyfriend out of that outfit. With Harry looking like that, Draco wasn't sure how much longer he could restrain himself from ravaging the green eyed boy.It was a problem that Draco was still struggling with later that evening when Harry joined him in the Slytherin common room.

He pulled the protesting Gryffindor down on to his lap and curled his arms tightly around Harry's waist. Harry squirmed in embarrassment at this blatant show of affection; however, it passed uncommented on by the rest of Draco's friends.

"You know, Harry," Draco whispered in his ear. "You really shouldn't squirm about on my lap like that."

To illustrate his point, he arched his hips slightly off the chair so that his erection pressed firmly against Harry's arse.

"Draco," Harry gasped quietly, turning round to look at the blonde, eyes wide.

"I can't help it, you look so hot in this outfit." Draco's hand slid under the front of Harry's shirt and began lightly caressing his stomach. Harry was forced to bite on his bottom lip to keep from letting a quiet moan escape his mouth.

Draco pressed his lips to the nape of Harry's neck, kissing and sucking his flesh gently. When his tongue licked up the side of Harry's neck, the Gryffindor couldn't prevent the squeak that left his mouth. Pansy looked over and grinned widely at the two boys but the rest of the common room knew better that to upset a Malfoy.

Harry turned in Draco's lap so that his legs were now hooked over the arm of the chair, almost cradled against the blond's chest. Somewhere a voice at the back of his mind was protesting this behaviour, but the feel of Draco's lips against his own blotted it out. Harry found, that in that brief moment, he didn't care that they were in the middle of the Slytherin common room, or that he was curled up in Draco's lap, almost purring like a petted kitten.

When Draco's lips pulled back, Harry looked up into lust glazed silver eyes and pouted. The blond chuckled softly at this, a sound that went straight to Harry's groin.

"Dray," he whined

"Relax, we're not done yet. I just think we should go somewhere a little more private."

These words brought Harry to the realisation of the position he was in. He looked round nervously at the room's occupants, hoping that no one had noticed this moment of lust fuelled weakness.

Sensing his boyfriends panic, Draco placed a soft kiss on his neck, just below his earlobe.

"It's OK, no one cares what we're doing and they wouldn't say anything even if they did. I just want to be alone with you, that's all."

Harry nodded mutely and slowly got to his feet. Draco watched for a moment, his eyes lingering on the expanse of toned stomach that Harry's shirt was displaying. Then the blond got to his feet and, taking hold of the dark haired boy's hand, led him towards the boys' dormitory.

Once inside the bedroom, the two boys tumbled onto the bed, Draco nestling between Harry's parted thighs. Draco moaned when Harry arched his hips up and pressed his hard cock against his own erection.

"I've been hard most of the day thanks to you," Harry whispered in the blond's ear. Draco didn't trust himself to reply, so he leaned down and captured Harry's pouting lips with his own. His tongue slithered between Harry's lips, darting in and out of the Gryffindor's mouth.

Draco rotated his hips against Harry, revelling in the soft moans that escaped those full pink lips. Almost instinctively, Harry's legs were wrapped around Draco's waist, pulling their bodies tighter together, making the pressure on their cocks almost unbearable.

Both boys had been in a state of constant frustration since Draco's teasing in the Three Broomsticks. They ground against each other in a shared desperate need for release. Harry's hands clawed at Draco's back, fingertips digging in hard, trying desperately to pull the blond closer still. Draco's lips were on Harry's neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

"Oh fuck, Harry, feels so good," Draco gasped as he felt his boyfriend arch off the bed beneath him.

"So good," Harry moaned in agreement. Before adding, seconds later, "'M gonna cum."

Spurred on by his boyfriend's words, Draco began to thrust frantically against Harry, wanting them to share their release. Draco pulled his head back and fixed his eyes on Harry's flushed face beneath him, watching in awe as his boyfriend came. His head arched back, eyes dark with passion and Draco's name on his lips. This sight alone was enough to finish Draco and only seconds later he had his face buried in the crook of Harry's neck, sobbing his own release.Harry woke the next morning to unfamiliar surroundings, but the feel of arms wrapped tight around his waist and the soft flutter of breath against the back of his neck brought the realisation of where he was.

Harry smiled to himself as he snuggled deeper into Draco's arms, revelling in the feeling of security that overwhelmed him. He glanced down and remembered that he was dressed in a pair of Draco's pyjamas, silk ones that felt so good against his skin.

He smiled wryly at the irony of the Gryffindor Golden Boy dressed in Slytherin green and curled up to the Slytherin Ice Prince. Though on reflection, Harry couldn't for the life of him work out how someone as passionate as Draco had ended up with a nickname like that.

The sound of steady breathing awakened Harry to the fact that they were not alone in the room. Looking up he realised that they had not closed the hangings round the bed and he could see Blaise and Theodore Nott sleeping peacefully. Harry found something faintly disturbing about the two empty beds in the room. He knew, by default, that these beds must have belonged to Crabbe and Goyle, but it seemed extremely heartless to leave these reminders to taunt their onetime friends.

He felt Draco stir behind him and lips kissing his neck gently.

"Morning," the blond murmured in between kisses.

"Hi," Harry whispered, somewhat shyly.

"What are you thinking?" Draco's tongue was now teasing the shell of Harry's ear.

"I was just wondering if you miss them?" Harry gasped, as he felt Draco's morning erection press against him.

"Who?" Draco asked, confused by the unexpected turn this conversation was taking – he had been hoping for a little morning dirty talk!

"Crabbe and Goyle," Harry replied, wriggling his hips against Draco's groin.

"Merlin, Harry!" Draco exclaimed as he rolled away from his boyfriend and lay on his back looking up at the canopy of his bed. "You certainly know how to kill the mood. You have my cock rubbing up against you and that's what you're thinking about."

Harry rolled over to face his boyfriend, who was now looking sadly at his rapidly disappearing erection.

"I was already thinking that before you started," Harry replied defensively, "So do you?"

A loud sigh escaped Draco's lips. "Would you think I was a terrible person if I said no?"

In lieu of an answer, Harry simply brushed his lips lightly against the blond's.

"They were never really my friends, not like Blaise and Pansy are. I knew them from when we were little, but their fathers pushed them towards me. It was this whole Death Eater hierarchy crap. My father was more important than their dads, so they used their sons to try and win favour."

Draco gazed into Harry's eyes and found himself lost in warm pools of emerald green. Something about the Gryffindor made him just want to bare his soul.

"I lost them a long time ago. As soon as the Malfoys fell out of favour with Voldemort, their fathers no longer had any need for me. The association could have been more damaging to their standing instead of beneficial. They weren't particularly bright, either of them, and they couldn't see the dangers inherent with following in their father's footsteps. They didn't question any of it; they took the mark willingly, gladly in fact. I could have almost felt sorry for them if they hadn't spent their time spying on me and reporting everything I said back to the Carrows."

Harry caught the look that crossed his boyfriend's face and didn't quite understand the emotion. He knew it wasn't a good one though, so he leaned down and began raining soft kisses on his lips. He felt Draco's interest stir again and bravely slid a hand down under to the covers to brush against the blond's silk clad erection.

"We should probably draw those hangings," Draco cautioned. "We wouldn't want to give Theo a heart attack, or Blaise a cheap thrill for that matter."

Harry pulled back reluctantly, "I suppose I should go soon too, I haven't got my cloak with me and I need to sneak back up into the tower. I'd have some explaining to do if I got caught."

"You should just tell them you were in bed with the Slytherin sex god and couldn't drag yourself away."

Harry laughed at this. "Mmm yes, I can just see that working. Somehow I don't think this was what McGonagall had in mind when she asked me to work on inter house unity."

Draco let out another groan. "Bloody hell, Harry, are you trying to make me permanently soft. You can't go talking about the bloody Headmistress while you're touching my cock. It's giving me mental images that I don't even think an obliviate would get rid of."

Before Harry could respond, a voice from the other side of the dormitory snapped, "I know what you mean; now would you two shut the fuck up and let me sleep."

The two boys sniggered quietly at Theodore's outrage but did reluctantly stop their pleasant activities. Draco firmly wrapped his arms around Harry, who as now snuggled at his side.

"I don't care if you have your cloak or not, you'll just have to stay here forever then," he whispered.

Harry wasn't sure if it was the feel of Draco's breath or if it was the thought of forever that sent shivers through his body. But whichever it was, it certainly felt good.


	25. Gay Sex For The Teenage Wizard

Harry snuck back up to Gryffindor Tower while everyone else was at breakfast. Once in the safety of his own room, he summoned Kreacher and asked the elf to bring him some food while he took a quick shower.

After his shower, Harry came back into his bedroom with a towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water running over his torso. He paused in front of the wardrobe, overwhelmed by the choice that now confronted him. Not really wanting to wear any of his new clothes for Quidditch practice, but realising there was no other option as his old clothes had already been disposed of in his absence.

He settled in the end for a pair of comfortable-looking, faded blue jeans, a long sleeved navy t-shirt and matching hoodie. Grabbing his broom and outer robes, he hurried out of the room, deciding to get a little flying time in alone before the rest of the team arrived.

Practices were now an uncomfortable experience. Although there were no outward displays of hostility from either of the Weasley siblings, there was definitely an undercurrent of tension which the entire team noticed.

Dismissing any such unpleasant thoughts, Harry mounted his broom, kicked off from the ground and took to the air.

With Harry at Quidditch practice, Draco made good use of the free time and headed up to the library with Blaise. The two Slytherins made their way to the back of the library, selecting one of the more secluded tables.

Draco heaved a deep sigh as he spread his books out on the table and realised just how much homework he had to do. Despite his other faults, the Slytherin was a conscientious student with a work ethic that would put even Hermione Granger to shame. However, over the last few weeks his mind had been occupied elsewhere and he had let his work slide.

Not for the first time he questioned the wisdom of taking seven subjects on to NEWT level. But then, as he reflected, he hadn't had that much of a say in that decision making process.

Draco stretched out a hand reluctantly selected his Ancient Runes textbook and began attempting to make sense of his notes. He felt the faint stirrings of a headache as he made heavy work of this hated subject.

Blaise had a much lighter work load, having nothing more taxing to occupy him than two feet of parchment for Herbology. Despite this, the Italian boy made very little effort to begin his work, preferring instead to fidget wildly in his seat, tapping his quill on the table in a way designed to drive his friend to distraction.

"Blaise," Draco snapped, glaring fiercely. "Do you plan to do any work today or are you simply here for the express purpose of driving me mad?"

Blaise grinned sheepishly at his friend. "Sorry, Draco, I'm just waiting for Neville to get here before I start this." He gestured at his work with a disgusted look on his face. "You know how I hate Herbology, but Neville's the best in the class."

"So basically, you're just waiting for him to get here so he can do the work for you?"

"No," Blaise retorted, stung by his friend's accusation. "He's just going to help me, there's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"There's something wrong with it if you two are going to sit their talking while I'm trying to get my work done."

Before Blaise could think of a suitable comeback to this, his attention was distracted by the sight of Neville who had entered the library and was making his way over to their table.

"Hi, Neville." Blaise grinned at his boyfriend. "You're just in time to save me from Draco's moaning."Neville slid into the chair next to Blaise and cast a quick apprehensive glance at Draco. Although they were now on much friendlier terms than they had once been, the Gryffindor was still a little nervous around the blond Slytherin.

"Hi," he offered tentatively.

Draco raised his head and met the boy's gaze briefly. "Longbottom," he acknowledged with a nod of his head, before turning his attention back to his work.

Neville shot a questioning look at Blaise but the Italian boy just shrugged, grinned, and then slid his chair closer that that their legs were pressed against each other.

Draco tried hard to ignore the other two occupants of the table. But he couldn't help but hear the affectionate whispers, nor did he miss the almost constant touching that was innocent enough, but was a knife in the heart to Draco, who could only think that he and Harry would never be able to be this relaxed together in public.After only a few minutes Draco could stand it no more. He got abruptly to his feet, his chair scraping loudly on the floor behind him.

"Damn it, Blaise! I'm trying to work here," he exclaimed in irritation. "I have to go find a book now, I expect you two to get this out of your system before I return, or you can find another table to sit at." Draco didn't wait for a response; he simply fixed both boys with a fierce glare and then stalked off.

Draco spent several fruitless minutes in search of the required runic text before admitting defeat and heading off in search of Madam Pince. The stern librarian had something of a soft spot for the blond Slytherin, borne from the many hours that Draco had spent in the Library over the years, and she was only too willing to point him in the right direction.

Draco gratefully retrieved the heavy tome and headed back to his table, only to find Blaise engaged in the act of tickling a giggling Neville.

Draco let the book fall on the table in front of the two boys with a loud slam that alerted them to the irate blonde's presence. One look at his friend's angry gaze told Blaise all he needed to know. He flashed an apologetic grin at the blond before scooping together his work and dragging a confused Neville towards another table.

Draco let out a sigh of relief and sank back into his seat. Just as he was losing himself in his work again, a voice invaded his concentration.

"Malfoy."

Draco looked up and was startled to find himself looking into the chocolate brown eyes of the Head Girl.

"Granger," he acknowledged. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"That book," she indicated with a wave of her hand. "Madam Pince informs me it is the only copy and I need to use it too. I just wondered how long you were going to be."

Draco fought against every inbred instinct to snarl, to sneer at, or to insult the girl in front of him. He swallowed every snarky comment and simply said, "I shouldn't be more than half an hour. Where are you sitting? I will bring it over to you once I am done."

If Hermione was surprised by this civility she hid it well. "Thank you, I'm just over there." She indicated a table a short distance away that was barely visible under a collection of books and parchment.

There was an uncomfortable silence then during which Draco could see the girl looking at him as if he were a particularly difficult Arithmancy problem.

"Was there something else, Granger?" Draco enquired in a stiffly polite tone. He was rewarded by the sight of the usually collected Head Girl shifting uncomfortably, her eyes fixed on the ground. Finally she seemed to summon the courage she required and met Draco's cool gaze head on.

"I'm just curious, Malfoy, as to what it is Harry sees in you that makes him willing to jeopardise his friendships."

Draco raised an eyebrow at this. He extended his leg under the table and pushed out the chair opposite him. "Then by all means, take a seat."

Hermione flashed a briefly suspicious look at him but took the proffered chair none the less. Draco noticed that her hands trembled slightly as she nervously smoothed her robes.

"I won't bite, Granger, despite what you may have heard."

Hermione let out a harsh laugh at this. "Yes, well you'll have to forgive me if I'm not exactly relaxed in your company, Malfoy. The last two times we have come into close contact have ended with your friends and family trying to kill me."

Draco blanched at this and dropped his gaze, unable to face the accusation in the face opposite him.

"I'm sorry," Hermione slid a hand across the table towards Draco's, but withdrew it quickly, thinking better of it.

Stormy grey eyes looked up at her in surprise. "Why are you apologising to me? I rather think that I should be apologising to you."

"What would you apologise to me for?"

It was Draco's turn to let out a harsh, bitter laugh at this question. "You really have to ask that question, Granger? There are a million little things I could be apologising for having done to you over the years. But I think they are rather insignificant when compared with recent events."

Hermione shook her head slightly. "No, I know all the things that you could be apologising for; I'm just interested to know what you think they are."

"Oh I don't know," Draco's voice was heavy with bitterness as he spoke. "How about letting Death Eaters into the school that nearly killed you all, or for standing by while my aunt tortured you, or for almost getting you all killed in the room of hidden things?"

Hermione found herself startled by the blond's candid words and decided he deserved nothing less in return.

"I don't hold you responsible for the actions of Crabbe and Goyle. You did try to stop them from using the Killing Curse, even if your motives were less than honourable. Those two paid a high enough price for their actions."

"You let Death Eaters into the school, yes. I'm not going to pretend to understand why you did, but Harry spoke up in your defence at the enquiry and that was long before the two of you were friends. If your reasons were good enough for him to accept, then I will trust his judgement."

Hermione paused for breath and noticed the startled eyes that were fixed on her face. "As for what happened when we were captured, I've thought about that a lot over the last few months. You knew it was us, I could tell from your reaction, but you didn't give us away."

"They figured it out anyway," Draco muttered."Yes, they did. But it bought us time, it gave them time to spot the sword and that in itself probably saved our lives. If it hadn't been for that, they would have called Voldemort straight away and we would have all been killed. You couldn't have done anything to stop Bellatrix from torturing me either."

"I didn't even try," came the bitter response. "Harry would have, even the Weasel would have risked it. But I just stood there and watched."

Hermione smiled at this, "Yes, Ron and Harry would have risked it, but they're Gryffindor's, Malfoy. Taking stupid risks is what they do. You knew only too well what would have happened to you if you had tried to interfere, your Aunt would probably have killed you."

"My parents would never have allowed her to," Draco stated stubbornly, but he didn't quite manage to hide the doubt in his voice.

"They didn't manage to stop her all those other times though did they?" Hermione questioned softly.

Draco's whole body tensed visibly at these words. "I don't know what you're talking about," he gasped. "There were no other times."

"I know all about it Malfoy," Hermione stated softly. "I had quite an illuminating talk with Luna yesterday."

Draco stood up, his expression somewhere between anger and pained.

"I don't know what you are talking about," he spoke slowly but firmly. "You have finally cracked, Granger, if you believe anything that Loony has to say."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply but before she could speak, Draco had thrust a book into her hands.

"Here, you may as well take it now. This conversation is over; I have nothing more to say." Draco began gathering his belongings together, steadfastly ignoring Hermione.

By the time Draco had finished packing all his stuff away, Hermione had got to her feet, realising she would get nothing further out of the blonde. She turned away disappointed and almost collided with Harry who, having finished Quidditch practice, had come in search of his boyfriend.

"Hermione," he exclaimed, unable to mask the surprise or concern in his voice.

The bushy-haired girl grabbed hold of his arms to steady herself. "Hi, Harry, if you'll excuse me, I was just heading back over to my table." She removed herself from Harry's steadying embrace and turned to Draco, "Thanks for the book, Malfoy."

Draco nodded in acknowledgement. "Anytime, Granger," he replied in a tight voice.

Harry watched thoughtfully as Hermione scurried back over to her own table and promptly buried herself in the mass of books that littered it. He turned back to the agitated looking boy in front of him. "You OK, Dray?" he asked.

"I am now you're here," he purred. Harry grinned at this obvious attempt to avoid the question, but considering the gleam in his boyfriend's eyes, he decided to let it go this once.

"I really need to go have a shower first; I've just come straight from practice," Harry apologised.

"Don't you dare," Draco whispered, "I happen to like you all sweaty."By lunchtime Harry had still not managed to have a shower, having been dragged down to the dungeons by his boyfriend for what turned into a heavy petting session.

Seeing that Neville was already sat by Blaise's side at the Slytherin table, Harry decided to head that way also, much to Draco's delight. He squeezed into the tight space that his boyfriend made for him and found that his side was pressed flush against the smirking blond.

No sooner had Harry begun helping himself to a large plate of sandwiches, than he noticed a lone Owl circling about the Great Hall. Neville also spotted it. "I bet that's for you, Harry," he mumbled through a mouthful of food.

Draco couldn't help but turn his nose up at this. "I see, Blaise, that you have managed to acquire a boyfriend who has the same high standard of table manners as you do."

Neville flushed at this, but Blaise simply grinned at his friend. Harry was still watching the Owl as it headed down towards the Gryffindor table. "Why would it be for me, Neville?" he questioned.

This time, Neville made sure to swallow his food before responding. "It was here at breakfast looking for you, but you weren't here. It wouldn't leave the parcel with anyone else either."

The Owl had landed on the Gryffindor table next to Seamus, who appeared to be talking to it and pointing in the direction of the Slytherin table. "Oi! Harry!" he shouted. "It's for you!"

Harry nodded at his friend but felt like cursing the Irish boy as they eyes of the Great Hall turned to watch as the owl soared over to him. The pretty barn Owl hovered over Harry's plate impatiently while the Gryffindor fumbled to release the package she carried.

Seeing there was a letter attached to the parcel, he turned his attention to this first (and was forever grateful he did afterwards.)

Harry,

I will be quite busy with the new shop for the next few weeks, but I will be coming up to school for the Gryffindor Slytherin match next month. In the meantime, I think this book should answermost of your questions.

George

PS: You might want to open the package when you're alone.

Harry looked warily at the innocuous brown package, before setting it to one side. He turned his attention back to his lunch before becoming aware of piercing grey eyes fixed on him.

"Who was the letter from?" Draco enquired, keeping his voice as neutral as he could manage.

Harry swallowed a mouthful of food before replying, "George."

Draco's eyes narrowed at this. "Why is Weasley owling you? You only saw him yesterday."

Harry shrugged, trying his best to seem nonchalant. "He's just sent me a book he thought I would like."

Draco decided not to press the matter further, not wanting to come off as the jealous boyfriend in front of his housemates. He turned his attention back to his lunch, trying hard to ignore the wide smirk that Pansy was sending in his direction.

Harry bolted the rest of his lunch down and quickly excused himself to Draco, claiming he was heading off for that much needed shower. Draco barely had time to question this, before Harry was up, out of his seat and halfway across the Great Hall.

He hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, a feeling of excitement and nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He had many ideas about what the book George had sent him contained and he was desperate to see if he was right.

"Chocolate Frog," he said to the Fat Lady and clambered quickly through the portrait hole. He made his way up to the boys' dormitory and entered with a sigh of relief. His relief quickly disappeared however, when he caught sight of a flustered looking Ginny Weasley perched on the edge of his bed.

"Ginny." His eyes narrowed at the red-haired girl. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

Ginny stood up and took a few hesitant steps towards him. "I just wanted to talk to you, Harry. I wanted to ask you to give me another chance?"

Harry rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "Ginny, we've been through this already. I don't feel that way about you anymore."

"Ok," Ginny shrugged, "can't blame a girl for trying though. I would like it if we could be friends though."

Now thoroughly confused, Harry just nodded, "Sure, Ginny, of course."

At this, Ginny picked up her bag, flashed a broad smile at Harry and then headed out of the door. Harry flopped on his bed and thanked whatever god there was, that he liked boys, because girls confused the hell out of him.

Remembering his package, he quickly tore the brown wrapping off and revealed the book beneath. His eyes widened at the title as he wondered where on earth he was going to hide it so no one say it.

'GAY SEX FOR THE TEENAGE WIZARD'

'Real subtle, George' Harry thought as he opened the book with trepidation.

An hour later and Harry had now closed the hangings round his bed and was still reading. He had to admit that George had been right, this book certainly answered most of his questions. And in the case of some illustrations, it told him a little more that he was sure he was ready to know just yet.

But Harry was feeling more relaxed about the whole thing now. He knew he still wasn't ready to have sex with Draco, but he did feel comfortable with moving things to the next level. Draco had remained true to his word about not pressurising Harry into anything he didn't feel ready for. All that remained then was for Harry to let Draco know that he was, in fact, ready.

That night Harry snuck down to the dungeons and let himself into the Slytherin Common room with the password that Draco had given him.

He found his way into Draco's bedroom and parted the hangings around his bed. He slipped under the covers, cast a quick Silencing Charm and then snuggled into the warmth of the other boy's body.

"Harry," a sleepy voice mumbled.

In reply, Harry wriggled so that his bum was pressed up against Draco's groin. Draco was awake now and his cock was already stiffening in response to Harry's teasing.

Draco slid an arm round Harry's waist and slid it under his pyjama top, his fingers stroking Harry's taut stomach. Draco felt the little shivers that ran through his boyfriend's body at this.

"You like that, Harry," he murmured, his fingers brushing over Harry's nipples.

Harry gasped softly, then summoning his Gryffindor courage, he pressed himself firmly back against Draco.

"I want you to touch me, Dray," he whispered, so softly that Draco barely heard him.

Teasing fingers trailed down Harry's chest, "Where do you want me to touch you, Harry?" Draco's fingers paused at the waistband of Harry's pyjama bottoms. The feel of Draco's own erection pressed up against him was enough to give Harry the confidence he needed. "Touch my cock."Harry felt his boyfriend press small kisses along the crook of his neck. "Are you sure?"

Harry felt like he was going to explode from the anticipation. "Merlin, yes," he gasped.

Draco chuckled lightly at this and his fingers slid slowly inside Harry's trousers and wrapped around the shaft of his cock. He whispered a lubricating charm and began stroking slowly.

Harry's breathing hitched at the feel of another hand where only his had been before. He cursed himself for having waited this long to feel something so amazing; Draco knew just how to touch him.

He felt Draco's cock thrusting against his bottom and suddenly he felt guilty that he was getting all the attention. Thinking back to what he had read in the book earlier, he reached round and tugged his pyjama bottoms down.

Draco gasped when he felt Harry's hand reach behind and begin tugging at his boxers. Understanding what his boyfriend was trying to do, Draco quickly pulled them off before pressing back up against Harry and resumed stroking his cock.

Harry moved slightly so that Draco's own thrusting erection slipped into the cleft of his bum cheeks causing Draco to think he had died and gone to heaven.

Draco timed his thrusts with his strokes on Harry's cock, gradually getting faster, bringing them both closer to the edge.

"Fuck, Dray, that feels so good, don't stop," Harry gasped as Draco tightened his grip on Harry's shaft, making the strokes firmer and faster.

Draco was barely coherent at this point, it was all he could do to maintain his self control and not penetrate Harry as each thrust brought him closer to his boyfriend's puckered hole. His pre-cum had lubricated his shaft and he was now gliding between Harry's bum cheeks with ease.

Draco lowered his mouth to Harry's neck and he began to bit him gently, sucking at the tender skin. Harry began whimpering in pleasure and thrust hard into Draco's hand. "So good, Dray," he moaned, "m'gonna cum."

At this, Draco sped up his stroke, feeling his boyfriend tense against him. Harry's head fell back onto Draco's shoulder as he let out the most erotic sounding moan that Draco had ever heard.

When he felt Harry's seed spill over his hand, Draco clamped his lips onto the white flesh of Harry's neck and began to suck as he thrust harder against him, until he too, came with a resounding cry. His cum shooting over Harry's buttocks and down his thighs.

The two boys collapsed against each other, Draco barely had the energy to whisper a quick Cleaning Charm. Harry reached down and pulled off his pyjama bottoms totally, wanting to join Draco in his nakedness. Seeing what he was doing, Draco began to slowly unbutton Harry's top and then helped him to slip it off his shoulders. Harry then turned round and curled up against his boyfriend, revelling in the touch of their bodies, naked, against each other.

"That was amazing," Draco whispered, in between kissing his boyfriend's soft lips

Harry looked deep into Draco's eyes, which were still glazed with lust. "You were amazing," he said, before burying his head in the crook of Draco's neck, placing soft kisses along the creamy pale skin.

Draco wrapped his arms tight around his boyfriend and could not remember a time when he had felt this content. He tried to stay awake as long as he could, to enjoy the feeling of just holding Harry. But very quickly he could feel sleep tugging at the edges of his consciousness and it wasn't long before he had joined Harry in a sated slumber.


	26. High Maintenance

Harry had woken up wrapped in Draco's arms at about 4am, and after a short while of simply lying there, revelling in the embrace, he slipped out of his boyfriend's bed and into his pyjamas.

He stood for a few moments smiling at the sight of a sleeping Draco who really did look quite angelic; one hand pillowing his sleep-flushed cheek and his white-blond hair fanned out across the pillow. A quick kiss and Harry disappeared under his cloak and headed back up to Gryffindor tower, hoping his absence had gone unnoticed.

By the time he had slid between the sheets of his own bed, all desire to sleep left him. He simply lay there till morning, thinking about Draco, a broad grin stretched across his face.

Breakfast time say a very bleary eyed Harry making his way slowly down to the Great Hall.

He headed over to the Gryffindor table hoping to find a space next to Neville. The last thing Harry wanted this morning was to talk and answer questions; Neville was quiet and calming and would respect Harry's desire for peace.

Sadly though, before he could locate the fair-haired Gryffindor boy, his eyes were assaulted by the grinning face of Ginny Weasley, eagerly waving him over into a seat at the side of her.

Mindful of his agreement the day before to remain friends, and not really wanting to upset the temperamental girl further, he plastered a smile on his face and walked towards her.

"Hi, Harry," she chirped, far too brightly for Harry's liking. "I thought we could sit together this morning, now that we're friends again." She suited her actions to her words and slid down the bench, offering Harry the spot she had vacated. "I've even warmed it for you!"

Harry felt vaguely uneasy by what he felt to be an overt display of forced cheerfulness but played along nonetheless.

"Thanks, Ginny," he answered, flashing her a tight smile. Had Ginny been a more observant girl, she would have noticed that his green eyes remained unaffected by any sign of happiness.

Harry tried to block out the ceaseless stream of chatter that poured forth from the redhead, keeping his eyes fixed on his breakfast. He managed only the occasional nod or vague noise of agreement, but this seemed to be more than enough for Ginny, who was revelling in the discreet curious looks that were being shot their way.

This was something that did not escape Harry's attention completely. He saw Ron nudge Hermione and nod his head in their direction. He also noticed the puzzled look on Hermione's face as she looked over at the two of them.

There was no chance to dwell on what this look meant though because all Harry could think about was the pair of stormy grey eyes that were currently burning their way into him from across the Great Hall. Slowly raising his eyes to meet the intense gaze of his boyfriend, Harry found himself arrested by the sight of Malfoy staring back at him, instead of Draco.

A quiet, shocked gasp escaped Harry's lips before he could stop it ,and he found himself unable to tear himself away from the beautiful face that was currently sneering at him in disgust."Are you OK, Harry? You don't look well?" Ginny reached out a hand and placed it on his forehead before Harry could stop her. "You're all clammy too; maybe you should go and see Madam Pomfrey. I could come with you if you want?"

Harry twisted away from her touch as if it burnt him. "I'm fine Ginny, leave it," he answered shortly. He quickly looked back over in his boyfriend's direction to gauge his reaction to Ginny's behaviour and felt his heart sink in his chest as he noticed the empty seat between Pansy and Blaise.

He was about to rise from his seat to follow Draco but an almost imperceptible shake of the head from Pansy stopped him in his tracks. She gave him a small smile and mouthed something that Harry didn't quite understand, but he felt faintly relieved that at least one new friendship seemed to still be intact.

Resting his elbows on the table, Harry cradled his head with his hands and massaged his temples in a vain effort to eradicate the faint ache that had begun.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder lightly and flinched automatically, assuming it was Ginny.

"Harry, do you have a minute?"

Harry could barely contain his relief at the sight of Neville looking down at him with concern in his eyes.

"What? Sorry, Neville, I wasn't really listening."

"I just wondered if you had a minute before first lesson. I wanted to have a private word with you."

Harry nodded gratefully. "Sure Neville, I'm done with this anyway." He pushed away the now distinctly unappealing plate of food in front of him. Then stood up and followed Neville from the hall, without so much as a word to the angry looking girl he left behind.

Once outside, Harry turned to his friend curiously. "So what was it you wanted to talk about, Nev?"

"Nothing really." Neville shrugged. "I just thought you looked like you could do with rescuing."

Harry gave Neville a wry smile. "Yeah, Ginny wants to try being friends, but..." He trailed off here, feeling the disloyalty even before the words left his mouth.

"Draco's jealous," Neville finished for him.

Seeing Harry shift uncomfortably, Neville placed a hand on the other boy's arm. "It's OK, you're not telling me anything I didn't already know. I have eyes." He smiled here before adding, "If looks could kill, I rather think that you and Ginny would be six feet under by now."

Harry nodded despondently. "Yeah, I think I have some fast talking to do. Thanks for the help, Neville, but I'm going to head down to the dungeons and see if I can't dig myself out of the shit before Potions."

"Good luck," Neville shouted after Harry as he left the Entrance Hall in search of his, possibly, ex boyfriend.

Harry's luck was out. He was the first student to arrive in the Potions classroom but Draco was nowhere to be found. Even when Harry watched hopefully as Blaise and Pansy entered the room, there was no sign of the blond Slytherin.

Pansy slipped into her seat beside Harry, answering his questioning look with a small shrug. He opened his mouth to question her further but the words stilled on his lips as he spotted Draco enter the room, followed shortly by Professor Slughorn. Draco made his way over to his seat at the side of Blaise without so much as a glance at Harry, and the green-eyed boy felt his heart sink a little further.

Harry tried so hard to focus throughout Slughorn's lecture on Pain Relieving Potions. It sounded extremely complicated and, worse still, extremely boring.

A quick look at Pansy told him that she was of a similar mind. She had her elbow on the table, hand cradling her head, and a slightly glazed expression on her face.

Harry had a feeling that come the practical element of this lesson they were going to be in trouble, especially without the usual friendly hints that Draco whispered in their direction.

When, as was to be expected, their cauldron did indeed explode mid potion, Draco didn't laugh along with the rest of the class. But Harry found something infinitely more painful in the way he didn't even glance in their direction, but carried on cutting his roots calmly as if Harry didn't exist.

At the end of the lesson, Draco was out of his chair and halfway across the room before Harry even registered what was happening. His robes swished behind him in a way that was so reminiscent of Professor Snape that Harry would have smiled, were it not for the twisting sensation in his gut.

Blaise leaned back on his chair, a lazy smile turned in Harry's direction.

"I believe 'high maintenance' is the expression you are searching for."Pansy chuckled at this but Harry struggled to raise a smile. He slowly gathered his belongings together and dragged himself reluctantly from his seat. Pansy linked her arm in his and tugged him towards the door.

"Come on, we don't want to be late for Charms."

They parted company with Blaise who, like Draco, had a free period now, and headed up out of the dungeons.

Pansy glanced sideways at Harry, taking in the preoccupied look on his face."Don't take it too much to heart, Harry. Draco knows there's nothing going on between you and the Weasley girl really. He's always getting in a snit over something, but he'll come round."

She gave his arm an affectionate squeezer before adding, "Besides, he likes you way too much to stay mad at you for long."Harry struggled throughout Charms to maintain his focus. Professor Flitwick was teaching them the Disillusionment Charm, and though Harry was very interested in learning how to do this, he couldn't shake the image of Draco's face from his mind.

Realising that he needed to sort things out before it drove him crazy, Harry managed to get himself excused from class early, laying claim to a bad headache – which in truth wasn't that much of a lie as there was now a dull throb behind his eyes. Harry reflected that there were some small advantages to being the 'Saviour of the Wizarding World', as his teacher never doubted his word for a moment.

He headed, not in the direction of the hospital wing, but down towards the Entrance Hall. Harry paused in front of the painting of a bowl of fruit and, reaching out a hand, tickled the pear.

On entering the kitchens Harry was surrounded by a swarm of excited house elves. They were promptly dispersed by a forbidding looking glare from Kreacher, who was now very territorial when it came to Harry. The sight of a gold locket nestling against the wizened elf's chest brought back a flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm Harry in his current fragile state.

He gave himself a mental shake and turned his attention to the bowing creature in front of him.

"Master Harry," the elf croaked. "How may Kreacher be of service?"

"I want some lunch please, Kreacher, Just sandwiches or something, and enough for two people. Oh, and can you wrap it up so I can take it with me?"

Kreacher nodded in acknowledgement and hurried off to do his master's bidding.Harry hovered nervously outside the Great Hall; his eyes scanning the lunch bound crowds for a sign of Draco. After fifteen minutes passed with no sign of the blond, Harry was about ready to give up his post and eat a solitary meal.

However, the fates were smiling on him because at just that moment, a familiar scowling face came into view. Flanked on either side by Blaise and Pansy, Draco hesitated when his eyes came to rest on Harry. A sharp nudge from Pansy soon had him moving again and Harry stepped forward eagerly.The sight of Harry's shy smile almost melted Draco's resolve to stay mad at the boy. But only almost, he was a Malfoy after all.

"Draco," Harry started, nervously. "Could we talk please?"

Green eyes gazed up at Draco and he inwardly railed at the unfairness of boyfriends who used puppy dog eyes to get their own way. Outwardly, he kept his mask firmly in place and stared back at Harry coolly.

"What could we possible have to talk about, Potter?"

"Draco!" Pansy's voice was sharp and held a note of warning that Draco was all too familiar with.

"Fine," he huffed. "Say what you have to say, so that I can eat my lunch in peace."

Harry flashed a grateful smile. "Not here," he said. He grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him in the direction of the main doors.

Draco allowed himself to be pulled along in Harry's wake, but not before shooting a venomous glare at the smug faces of his two friends. They smirked at him in return and then disappeared into the Great Hall.

Once outside, Harry continued to lead Draco in silence, racking his brains for what to say. Truth be told, he hadn't actually expected Draco to acquiesce so easily to his request and it had left him a little wrong footed.

"Potter, is this going to take long, only I'd like to eat sometime today?"

Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't hear Draco's words."Harry!" Draco's voice was sharp this time and the use of his given name woke Harry to the other boy's presence.

He stopped and slowly turned around. "What Draco?" He spoke so quietly that the blonde strained to catch his words.

"I'm hungry!"

Harry allowed the corners of his mouth to curl into a faint smile at the plaintive tone in Draco's voice. He reached into his bag and pulled out the pack of sandwiches that Kreacher had carefully packed. He offered them wordlessly to Draco, but received only a sneer for his trouble.

"And where do you propose we sit exactly?"

Again without speaking, Harry unclipped his cloak and spread it out on the grass. He sat down and looked up at his boyfriend through thick lashes and held out his hand; a shy smile on his face.

A soft sigh escaped Draco's lips, but he took Harry's hand nonetheless and sank down onto the ground.

"You'll ruin this cloak, I hope you realise."

Harry shrugged in return, "I don't mind."

An awkward silence then descended as they opened the package and set about the food contained within.

Harry munched on his sandwich and gazed at Draco thoughtfully, trying to gauge his mood. Draco, in his turn, kept his eyes focussed upon anything that wasn't the intense green eyes that he knew were currently fixed on him.

"Are you jealous?" Harry blurted out and then promptly wished he hadn't.

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco scoffed. "Malfoy's don't do jealousy."

Harry rested a hand tentatively on Draco's leg. "Good, because there really is nothing to be jealous about. Ginny came to see me yesterday to ask if we could be friends, that's all. She knows nothing can happen between us."

Grey eyes fixed on Harry, narrowing dangerously. "Came to see you where exactly?"Harry shifted uneasily. "Umm, well she was sort of waiting in my room for me."

Draco huffed in disgust and made to get up. Harry's hand shot out and grabbed him tightly round the wrist.

"Draco, there's nothing going on, I swear. I don't want Ginny."

"Then what do you want, Potter?"

"You," Harry replied simply.

Draco felt his anger melt away at this and he sank back down, closer to Harry, their legs touching.

Summoning his courage, Harry reached over and took hold of Draco's hand, lacing their fingers together. But still Draco didn't look at him.

"Draco, what is it?"

Harry felt the grip on his hand tighten as Draco began speaking.

"I knew really that you hadn't done anything wrong," he admitted.

"So what was all this about?" Harry pressed gently.

"It's just that sometimes I can't help but wonder if you will decide that this is just a faze, something you rushed into like the foolish Gryffindor you are. And then you'll leave me to go back to her."

Harry squeezed Draco's hand so tight that the blond almost winced.

"Draco, look at me...please."

Draco turned his head and Harry felt butterflys fluttering in his tummy at the intensity of emotion that played across his boyfriend's face. Not caring who saw, he reached up and brushed silky strands of blond hair out of Draco's eyes.

"Draco, I'm gay," he stated firmly. "This isn't me experimenting. I knew I liked boys before we got together."

"But how? I mean, you said you hadn't been with anyone before."

"I said I hadn't had sex," Harry corrected.

"So you've done other stuff?" Draco quizzed, his interested piqued.

Harry coloured and nodded his head, unable to meet Draco's gaze.

"Harry," Draco started, his thumb rubbing small circles across Harry's hand. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about; I won't think any less of you. We've all of us got pasts."

Draco paused for a moment, thinking intently. "I guess I should tell you that Blaise and I used to be together. Not like we are though. It was mostly just physical stuff."

"It's OK," Harry replied."You don't mind that I didn't tell you earlier?"

Harry grinned. "I kind of already knew. Pansy may have mentioned it before we were together. But I don't care about your past; I just hope I don't suffer by comparison."

Draco leaned in so close that Harry felt his breath hot on his neck."There is no comparison to you, Harry."

He leant back then and enjoyed the rosy flush on his boyfriend's face. "So who was it then?" he asked curiously.

"George," Harry admitted reluctantly.

"Weasley?" Oh that's brilliant . I take it that the other Weasels don't know?"

As Harry shook his head, Draco let out a burst of laughter. "You certainly like to keep it in the family!"

Harry watched his boyfriend as his face creased in a broad grin and laughter escaped his full lips. He marvelled, not for the first time, at the sudden shifts of the other boy's mood.

"You don't mind about then?" Harry asked apprehensively.

"Not really," Draco admitted. "Just so long as he knows you're off limits now."

The blond took a quick look at his watch and realised, reluctantly, that it was time to head back inside. He got to his feet and held out his hand to Harry. Their hands lingered, clasped together, longer than was necessary and both boys had to fight the urge to kiss each other senseless right there and then.

"Draco, I've been thinking."

Draco didn't speak but simply smiled encouragingly at his boyfriend.

"I was thinking that maybe we should get to know each other better. I mean, I know we've known each other for seven years, but we don't really know that much about each other, do we?"

"Apart from what to say to provoke the most violent reaction you mean?"

Harry gave Draco a playful dig. "You know what I mean.""Yes, I do," Draco admitted. "I think maybe you're right. We should spend some time alone together... with our clothes on!"

"Perv," Harry accused, laughter dancing in his eyes. "Are you asking me on a date?"

"Yes, I believe I am. Although, whether it's strictly called a date since we won't actually be leaving the castle!"

"It doesn't really matter where we go. I just want to spend time with you." Harry leant against Draco as they walked towards the castle, their hands touching lightly.

"First though," Draco began, an evil glint in his eye, "I need to go and have a word with Pansy and explain the concept of keeping secrets. I can't believe she told you about Blaise and I."

"I'm glad she did. I had no idea that you were even gay until she told me, and then I would never have had the guts to kiss you."

Draco grinned broadly. "Maybe I'll go easy on her then."


	27. Soul Baring

A/N: This chapter contains slash sex (almost!) If this offends, don't read. If you like, then read on!!

Over the next few days, Harry and Draco made good on their promise to get to know each other better. Or rather, they tried to.

Since the beginnings of their friendship there had been certain topics that, by unspoken agreement, they had avoided. Things that Draco didn't dare mention for fear of reminding Harry of why they had once been bitter enemies. And things that Harry didn't want to talk about for fear that Draco would think less of him.

Trouble was, as Harry realised by Friday, they had pretty much exhausted the wealth of trivial information that they had been offering to each other in place of more unpleasant truths.

But Harry was no longer satisfied with the knowledge that silver was Draco's favourite colour or that he couldn't live without his daily fix of chocolate. It wasn't enough; he needed to know more about his boyfriend, but he was afraid to ask.

Not because he thought that anything Draco could tell him would change the way he felt about the blond, but because of the information that he knew he would be required to share in return.

As Friday ticked closer, the twisting sensation in Harry's stomach gradually increased. Up till now they had allowed themselves to be distracted by their friends whenever any conversation had veered dangerously close to forbidden topics. But Friday night Draco had a 'date' organised for them and they would be truly alone, with no interruptions.On Friday evening Harry dressed carefully, selecting a pair of black jeans and a body hugging green sweater that Draco had chosen to complement his eyes. Although Harry suspected it was as much that Draco found it amusing to dress the 'Gryffindor Golden Boy' in Slytherin colours.

Harry winced slightly as the fabric of his sweater snagged at the fresh cuts on his arm and he felt a brief flash of shame for these visible signs of his inner weakness.

It had been several weeks since Harry had felt the need to relieve his feelings in this way. But just thinking about all the things he needed to explain to Draco had brought with it a fresh wave of guilt that refused to be assuaged in any other way.

Harry left the dormitory and headed down into the common room as quietly as possible, not wanting to draw attention to himself and then be required to explain where he was going.

He paused on the bottom step and cast a wary eye around the room for signs of Ginny, who was taking to their new friendship just a little too eagerly for Harry's liking. He was relieved to spot her over by the fireplace, deep in conversation with Dennis Creevey.

Harry turned away suddenly as he was assaulted by images of Colin Creevey's lifeless body cradled in Oliver Wood's arms. 'Get a grip Harry' he admonished, shaking his head slightly to clear the image.

A quick look at his watch told him it was time to go. Something told Harry, that as casual as Draco was about his own time keeping, he would expect nothing but complete punctuality from his boyfriend.

Harry quickly exited the portrait hole and turned to head off in the direction of the dungeons. As he did, he was brought up short by the sight of Draco standing there grinning at him.

"Draco," he gasped, "what are you doing here?" He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder as he spoke.

"We have a date, Harry, I'm here to escort you," the blond explained as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Harry grinned at this. "Shouldn't you have brought me flowers or something then?"

The smirk was quickly wiped off his face when Draco's hands came from behind his back and he held out a box of what Harry knew to be Honeydukes most expensive Belgian chocolates. He gaped at Draco but reached out for the box nonetheless.

"Um, thanks, Dray. I didn't realise we were doing gifts. I didn't get you anything."

"That's OK, Harry, I'm sure I can come up with a few suggestions as to what you can give me later."

"I thought we were supposed to be keeping our clothes on tonight," Harry reproved teasingly.The blond leered at him slightly in return. "Now I think we both know that there is still plenty of fun to be had with our clothes on, Harry. But if that's off the menu then I suppose you will just have to share these chocolates with me."

"Why do I get the feeling that bringing me chocolates was just your way getting to eat them yourself without Pansy breathing down your neck?"

Draco assumed an injured expression. "I'm hurt, Harry. I was only trying to be a gentleman and you accuse me of having ulterior motives." Then seeing the expression on his boyfriend's face he huffed.

"Thinks she's my bloody mother, always going on about how I'll rot my teeth. As if my teeth would ever be anything but perfect. I had to practically beg her to let me have these. You will share them with me won't you, Harry?" He turned a pleading expression to his boyfriend that would have melted the coldest of hearts, and subsequently turned Harry's to complete mush.

"Course I will, how could I say no to that?" Harry leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Draco's cheek and then reached out and ruffled his hair slightly.

"Potter, what have I told you before about messing my hair up. Just because you favour the shaggy dog look, doesn't mean we all do." Draco crinkled his nose up as he ran his eyes over Harry's head. "You might have actually brushed your hair before coming out."

Harry grinned and thought just how cute Draco looked with his pointy nose all wrinkled up like that, but wisely said nothing of the sort. He ran his hand through his wild raven locks. "I would, but I've lost my hairbrush."

Draco shook his head. "You're a hopeless case, Potter"

Harry leaned in close, his breath ghosting over Draco's skin. "But I'm your hopeless case Malfoy."

Draco simply huffed again and tugged at Harry's sleeve. "C'mon. As much as I do enjoy being eavesdropped on by that Fat Ladyy, we have other places to be."

He strode off with Harry in tow as the echo of a disgruntled female voice exclaiming about rude boys reached their ears.

When they reached the fifth floor, Draco turned away from the stairs and headed off down one of the corridors.

"Where are we going?" Harry whined."Don't be so impatient. You'll see in a minute."

As they walked past a statue of Boris the Bewildered, Harry had a feeling he knew where the blond was leading them. And sure enough, as they stopped outside the fourth door on the left from the statue, Harry found himself outside the prefect's bathroom.

He turned wide eyes to Draco. "The prefect's bathroom, Draco? What happened to keeping our clothes on?"

"I can assure you we will be keeping our clothes on. Now if you could just keep your mind out of the gutter!" With that, Draco whispered the password and swung the door open. Harry's eyes widened even further at the sight that met him.

The room was lit with soft candle light from chandelier above, but Draco had added to this by placing dozens of candles on every available surface around the room. In the corner was the softest looking furry blanket that Harry had ever seen and it was littered with countless squashy cushions. In the centre of it was a bottle of wine chilling in an elegant silver holder and there were several platters of food that looked too delicious for words.

Draco had firmly locked the door against intruders and then turned to enjoy the look of wonder on Harry's face.

"It's beautiful Draco," he whispered.

Draco stepped closer, slid his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him round so they were facing. He leaned in and slowly pressed his lips onto Harry's. A soft moan sounded from both boys at the gentle pressure. When Harry felt Draco's tongue swipe against his bottom lip in an unspoken request, he parted his lips and allowed the blond's tongue entry.

Harry's tongue flicked against Draco's tentatively and a shiver of pleasure coursed through him as their tongues slid against each other. Harry's hands slid up to thread through Draco's silky hair and for once, the blond remained silent as his neat locks were thoroughly mussed up.

Draco's own hands found their way into Harry's hair and he used it as a lever to tilt Harry's head back, revealing the soft skin of his throat. Draco kissed his way down Harry's neck, flicking at his skin with the tip of his tongue. A low moan from Harry encouraged Draco to continue and he gently suckled the flesh at the base of Harry's throat, leaving a red mark which he then licked gently.

Eventually, Draco pulled back from the embrace breathlessly. Harry let out a soft keening noise as if protesting the loss of his boyfriend's soft lips. "If we don't stop now, Harry, I don't think I will ever be able to let you go."

"That's OK with me," Harry murmured against Draco's neck as his head rested on the blond's shoulder.

"C'mon." Draco took hold of Harry's hand and gently led him in the direction of the blanket. As they settled down, Harry ran his fingers through the soft pile, trying to ignore the tightening sensation that had returned to his stomach.

Draco reached out for the wine and began to pour them both a glass. Handing one to Harry, he spoke, "I thought this might help us both relax. Judging by how we've been putting it off for days, I don't think either of us is relishing the thought of this conversation."

"We don't have to, not if you really don't want to." Harry reached out and placed his hand over Draco's.

"I do want to; I want to tell you everything. I'm just scared."

"Of what?" Harry almost whispered.

"That I'll lose you, that you'll go back to hating me." Draco couldn't meet Harry's intense gaze, but looked at the ground while his teeth worried his bottom lip.

Harry got to his knees, placed his hand under Draco's chin, raising his head till their eyes locked. He pressed several light kisses to Draco's lips.

"Never," he murmured as his fingers traced the blond's jaw line. Draco took hold of Harry's hand and pulled it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. Harry promptly climbed into the 'v' between Draco's legs and curled up against his chest, almost spilling his wine in the process.

"Never," he stated again, fierce determination in his voice.

Draco thought his heart would burst through his chest at Harry's words. He ran his slightly trembling fingers through Harry's messy hair, taking deep breaths until he could trust himself to speak.

"We really do need to see about getting you a new hairbrush, Potter."Harry let out a gentle snort at this. "Way to kill the mood, Malfoy."

Draco leant forward slightly and snagged one of the silver platters covered in food. He selected one of the tartlets and raised it to Harry's lips. "Try one of these, they're my favourite."

Without question Harry opened his mouth and took at bite, making sure to lick Draco's fingers as he did.

"Should I be a little concerned?" he teased. " I mean, you pick me up at the door for our 'date', you bring me chocolates and now you're feeding me. When exactly did I become the girl in this relationship?"

Draco sniggered at this and popped the rest of the tartlet in Harry's mouth before he could protest further.

"Well, Harry, you are the one that spends half the time curled up in my lap, and you are awfully pretty with those long lashes and pouty lips!"

The outrage in Harry's eyes caused Draco to chuckle, that and the fact that his boyfriend had a mouthful of food so was unable to retaliate. Draco relented and stroked Harry's head affectionately.

"I can assure you that I do not in any way think of you as a girl. I like boys remember? And you specifically."

Harry let out an indignant huff but simply selected another tart and began to eat again. Draco rested his chin on the top of his boyfriend's head and took a deep breath.

"Can I ask you something, Harry?"

Harry nodded, mouth full of food, but at the serious tone in Draco's voice he suddenly lost his appetite.

"Do you remember your parents at all?"

Harry almost let out a sigh of relief; of all the questions he had feared answering this was not one of them.

"Sometimes I think I do, but then, I was so young that I think I can't possibly. I guess that most of it is what people have told me about them and it just feels like I remember being there. I was still only a baby when they died.""I bet you were a really cute baby," Draco murmured, his lips now hot against the skin of Harry's neck.

Harry smiled weakly at this. "The only real memory I have of them is the night that they were killed."

Draco tightened his arms around the Gryffindor at this, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against Harry's torso.

Harry took a deep swallow from his wine before continuing. "When I get too close to a Dementor, that's what I hear. My mum pleading with Voldemort not to kill me and then her screams as she dies."Draco trailed comforting kisses up the side of Harry's neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered.Harry shrugged. "'S not your fault."

"No, but I'm still sorry that you had to go through that. I can't begin to imagine how that must feel."

"It's not great," Harry admitted slowly, "but I've gotten used to it." Then in an effort to change the subject, he turned his head to look at Draco. "So, talking of cute babies, tell me about your childhood. I bet you were a right spoilt little brat!"

Draco realised that Harry was trying to change the subject away from himself but let it slide. His childhood was one topic he really didn't mind discussing.

"I was spoilt," he admitted, "spoilt rotten in fact. I think it was because my parents couldn't have any more children after me that they pretty much gave me anything I wanted. But I wasn't a brat at all, it wouldn't have been tolerated."

At the sight of Harry's questioning look, he continued. "Not like that. My parents never laid a finger on me. I know everyone looks at my Lucius and thinks he's pure evil but he was a good father to me. I know he's done some terrible things but I can't help..."

"You don't have to apologise for loving him, Draco, he's still you're father, whatever else he may be."

Draco shifted his position, adjusting Harry's weight against him slightly.

"You know," he said, conversationally, "it's a good job you're so small Harry, what with the amount of time you spend sprawled over me."

"I'm not small, you git," Harry spluttered.

"Well, you're certainly smaller than me," Draco smirked.

"That's because you're a giant, Malfoy, unnaturally tall. I happen to be the perfect height."

"How tall?"

"5 ft 9"

Draco raised an eyebrow and smiled at his boyfriend, "How tall?"

"Fine," Harry huffed, "I'm 5ft 8 ¼"

"Ah yes," Draco grinned, "let's not forget that all important ¼. It's OK, I happen to have a soft spot for runts."

Harry turned round to glare at Draco. "I'm not a runt," he spluttered. "It's not my fault I had stunted growth when I was a kid. You need food and sunlight to make a plant grow, I would imagine it's the same for a boy and it's not like I got much of either."

"What do you mean?" Draco's voice was edged with concern now.

Harry cursed silently; he had managed to corner himself on one topic that he really didn't want to discuss.

"Let's just say my relatives weren't exactly fond of me," he spat, surprised at the amount of residual bitterness he still felt towards the Dursleys.

"But what did you mean when you said you didn't get much food or daylight? You were kidding right?"

Harry didn't miss the note of concern in Draco's voice, so he took a deep breath and began to explain.

"My Aunt and Uncle didn't want to take me in but I think Dumbledore guilt tripped them into it somehow. But even though I lived with them, I was never part of the family. Until I was eleven I slept in the cupboard under the stairs."

Draco's grip tightened protectively round his boyfriend at this, but he didn't speak as he wasn't sure he could restrain his anger.

"The only reason they gave me a bedroom after that was when my Hogwarts letter came and it was addressed to my cupboard. I guess they got scared, they were always afraid of anything to do with magic. When I was little and strange things would happen to me, they would lock me in my cupboard for days without food."

Harry buried his face against Draco's chest as he continued, "the worst of it was that they told me my parents were drunks who were killed in a car crash. I didn't even know I was a wizard until Hagrid came to tell me on my 11th birthday."

"It wasn't so bad after I started at school; I guess they were a little afraid that I could use magic against them. But they still locked me in my bedroom and one year they even put bars on the window. I guess its Muggle's like them that made people want to follow Voldemort."

"But I don't understand why Dumbledore didn't do anything about it Harry. Surely he would have stopped it if he knew." Draco looked intently at Harry and suddenly realised something.

"You didn't tell them did you? Why would you just suffer something like that in silence?"

Harry just shrugged. "There was no point. I had to stay there for the blood protection against Voldemort, and I didn't want people worrying about something they couldn't do anything about."

"Stupid Gryffindor," Draco murmured affectionately. Then he became more serious and turned Harry's head so he could look into those impossible green eyes.

"Promise me you will never keep something that serious to yourself again. I'm your boyfriend; it's my job to worry."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I promise," he whispered. His hand went subconsciously to press against his arm where he knew angry red wounds marred his flesh, and prayed to whatever god was listening that Draco would never find out.

"Is that why you never went back to get the rest of your stuff?" Draco questioned, a vague memory of an earlier conversation teasing at his brain.

Harry looked at Draco with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean? What stuff?"

"Well, you said that you had left your broom at your relatives and hadn't gone back for it. I thought it was a bit odd at the time, but I guess it makes sense now.

"Yeah, well, I hated being there when I had no choice in the matter. Now that I do, I don't intend to ever go back. I don't imagine my broom is still there anyway. I'm pretty sure they would have just burned any reminder of me."

"Muggles are just weird," Draco mused. "Most Wizarding families would have given their right arm to take in the Boy Who Lived. Didn't they realise how important you were? You're Harry Potter for Merlin's sake."

"I don't think they would have given a shit even if they did know. They hated anything to do with magic."

Harry paused for a moment before adding thoughtfully, "Its odd how most wizarding children grew up knowing my name and I didn't even really know what my name was until I started school."

Draco was startled by this. "How could you not know what your own name was? What did they used to call you, if it wasn't Harry?"

"Mostly just 'boy' or sometimes 'freak' if they were feeling particularly unpleasant."

The calm acceptance in Harry's voice as he made this confession caused a tightening in Draco's chest and he wanted nothing more than to hunt the Dursleys down and show them just how scary magic could really be.

"Bastards," he spat. "How could anybody call you a freak?"

Harry just shrugged and didn't reply which worried Draco. "You do know it's not true, don't you?"

When no reply was forthcoming, Draco took hold of Harry's arms and pulled the Gryffindor away from his chest. "Harry, tell me you know it's not true."

Harry dragged sad green eyes up to meet his boyfriends intense gaze. "I guess," he admitted slowly. "It's just that...did you ever notice how the bad stuff is always much easier to believe?"

"Fucking Muggles," Draco ground out angrily. "I should go round there and fucking kill them for hurting you."

Harry leaned in and pressed his lips softly against Draco's, a small smile on his face.

"No offence, Dray, but you're not exactly the killing type."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Harry had a flash of Draco in the Astronomy tower, his wand shaking as he pointed it at Dumbledore. From the way Draco's body tensed up, it seemed he was remembering this too.

"Shit!" Harry cursed his own stupidity. "I'm sorry, I didn't think."

The blond shook his head. "It's OK, I know you didn't mean anything by it." He looked thoughtfully at Harry before adding, "You were there, weren't you? That night in the Astronomy tower?"

Harry was a little startled that Draco was willingly discussing this topic but nodded his head slowly nonetheless. "Yes, I was," he answered softly. "How did you know?"

Draco grimaced. "It was just a guess really. When the Aurors questioned me about it, they said there had been a witness who corroborated my story and then I remembered that there had been two brooms. Plus, I figured that no one other than you would be willing to speak up for me."

"I just told them the truth," Harry stated. "I saw you start to lower you wand before Snape burst in. You wouldn't have killed him; Dumbledore knew that and so do I."

"I just couldn't do it," Draco admitted softly. "I spent all that year trying to kill him, but when I got the chance to actually do it, I just couldn't."

Harry set his glass down on the floor and cuddled back up against Draco's chest. "You're not a killer, Dray, that's not a bad thing."

"I may not have actually done it, but it wasn't for want of trying. Look at what I did to Katie Bell with that cursed necklace. Merlin, Harry, I almost killed the Weasel with that poisoned mead. No wonder he hates us being friends, even I can't blame him for that."

"You were scared and you weren't actually trying to kill him, even Ron understands that. Besides, it's no worse than what I did to you." Harry slipped his hand under Draco's shirt and traced his finger down where he knew the faint silvery scar was.

"How can you defend what I did? I let Death Eaters into the school!"

"I know and I'm not saying it was the greatest move you ever made, but I understand why you did it. You were afraid that Voldemort would kill your family if you didn't do it, and you knew him well enough to know that it wasn't an idle threat."

"But I could have gone to Dumbledore or something," Draco muttered stubbornly. "Instead, I just took the easy way out."

"Draco, I saw how upset you were in the bathroom that day. No one seeing that would ever think you took the easy way."

There was a brief silence when neither boy spoke, both of them lost in their own memories. Harry leant in and kissed Draco's neck lightly before speaking.

"I just want to say one more thing and then we won't talk about it anymore, OK?"

He felt, rather than saw, Draco nod in assent.

"My parents died trying to save my life, so I never got the chance to know them. But if I had, if I had grown up with them, like you did with your parents, I don't know that I wouldn't have done just about anything to try and save them. You did what you thought you had to and I'm not about to judge you for that, not anymore anyway."

Draco's arms were so tight round his body that Harry could barely breath, he was about to protest when he felt the blond begin to tremble. He slid his arms around Draco's waist, snuggling against him as close as he could. Harry's hands stroked Draco's back gently and he kissed his way up the blond's neck, right up to his lips.

When Harry felt the wetness on Draco's face he thought his heart would break. He tentatively flicked out his tongue and began to lick the salty tears that trickled down his cheeks. One hand gently stroking the blond's face, while the other tangled in his silky blond locks.

Harry felt the tremors subside and Draco lowered his head to burrow in the crook of his boyfriends neck. When Draco spoke, the words were muffled and his voice was still a little unsteady.

"If you've messed up my hair, there's going to be trouble."

Harry chuckled at this, relieved that Draco was obviously feeling better. "Arse," he murmured affectionately.

They sat like that for several minutes in silence, with only the sound of each other's heartbeats. Their arms wrapped so tight around each other, light hair contrasting with dark, pale skin against tanned.

"Harry, there are other things I should..."

Harry pressed a finger to Draco's lips. "No more, not tonight," he hushed. "We've got the rest of our lives to find out everything about each other, there's no hurry." And at that point Harry realised he really meant what he said. He found he couldn't imagine his life without Draco and that made him feel indescribably happy and terrified all at the same time.

Draco pulled back from the embrace and looked at Harry through lashes still wet from his earlier tears. Harry couldn't help but reflect that his boyfriend had never looked more beautiful, even if his skin was a little blotchy and his nose was all red and snuffley.

"I don't know about you," Draco smiled impishly. "But all this soul baring has made me kind of hungry. I think it's time to open the chocolates."

Harry smiled warmly and gently brushed his thumbs over Draco's cheeks, removing the last traces of wetness. He reached out and retrieved the box and passed it to Draco, who unwrapped it as eagerly as a small child on Christmas morning.

Draco's eyes feasted greedily on the treat in front of him. Then, just as he was about to select his first one, he looked up at Harry guiltily.

"Sorry, I forgot these are yours. Here, you pick first." He held the box out to Harry whilst still casting a longing look at it.

Harry shook his head and pushed the box back to Draco, laughing."It's OK. You choose for me, you're the chocolate connoisseur after all."

Draco's hand hovered over the box while he made his selection. He picked one up carefully between his forefinger and thumb and Harry reached out to take it. Draco swatted away his hand. "Let me," he purred.

He slid the chocolate between Harry's lips, allowing his fingers to linger just long enough for Harry to suckle them briefly.

Draco watched expectantly. "Well?" he questioned. "Aren't they just luscious?"

Harry swallowed and nodded. "They're nice," he agreed.

"Nice?" Draco almost growled. "They're not nice, Harry, they are heavenly." He pulled the box closer to his body as if protecting them from Harry. "Philistine," he muttered darkly.

Harry grinned at this. "How did I not know you were gay?"

"You'd better not be calling me camp." Draco glared at his boyfriend but didn't stop from the act of slipping another treat into his mouth.

"As if I would do that," Harry replied in a tone of mock innocence. Draco opened his mouth to refute this statement, but before he could, Harry had popped yet another chocolate into his mouth.

"There," Harry smiled. "That's a much better way to keep your mouth occupied"

"I can think of an even better way than that," Draco replied, swallowing quickly, whilst shooting a lascivious look at Harry.

"Down boy." Harry grinned in return. "It's a shame though," he reflected. "If only we had worked out how we felt years ago, think of all the fun we could have had, instead of constantly fighting."

"Oh, I don't know. Pansy is under the impression that most of those fights were just my way of indulging in foreplay with you."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise at this. "Are you saying you used to get turned on when we fought?"

Draco shrugged. "Not every time, and not really as a reaction to you. Well, not consciously anyway. But there was so much anger and passion involved that sometimes I found it a little erotic. There were certainly times when I was extremely grateful for just how loose school robes were."

"Pansy wasn't lying when she said you were kinky then."

"No, she was most definitely telling the truth on that one." Draco paused and looked at Harry speculatively. "Does that bother you?"

"No, not at all. I'm more curious about it than anything. Maybe I'll have to get you to show me what it's all about." Harry flashed Draco a teasing grin.

"You should be careful saying things like that, Harry," Draco warned lightly. "I just might hold you to that one of these days."

"Oh, I'm counting on it," Harry replied smugly as he watched the shock appear on his boyfriend's face."

Harry smirked at Draco and got to his knees to crawl the short distance towards him with a distinctly predatory gleam in his eyes. He reached out and took the chocolates from Draco's hand and placed them at the side. Draco let out a small whimper of protest at the loss of his treat, but the sound was soon muffled as Harry captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

His hands went to the buttons on Draco's shirt and he slowly began unbuttoning them. Draco's hands went automatically to the edge of Harry's sweater and began tugging, Harry batted his hands away. "No, I want to do this for you," he murmured.

He slid the shirt off Draco's shoulders and sat back to drink in the sight of the blond's slender but toned torso.

"Perfect," he whispered, almost to himself

Harry leant down and began trailing butterfly kisses across Draco's collar bone, adding gentle nips here and there. He continued to kiss down Draco's chest until he reached pale pink nipples. He took one in his mouth and sucked on it, listening with satisfaction to the gasp of pleasure that escaped his boyfriend.

This gasp was shortly followed by a hiss as Harry bit down on Draco's nipple and tugged gently on it with his teeth. The sensation caused Draco's erection to strain wildly against his trousers and Harry wasn't any better off.

Harry then trailed his tongue down Draco's sternum before coming to rest just on the edge of his belly button. Tentatively, Harry dipped his tongue into Draco's navel and swirled his tongue.

"Harry!" He heard Draco cry out, his voice thick with desire.

Sensing the need in his boyfriend, Harry trailed his hands to the Draco's trousers and began to unzip them slowly. He looked up and found grey eyes staring back at him, unfocussed and glazed with desire.

He slid Draco's trousers off and then hesitantly hooked his fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Looking up at Draco for approval, he received an eager nod. "Fuck, yes" Draco hissed.

Harry slid down Draco's boxers and found himself staring at his boyfriend's erection with wonder. This was the first time he had ever fully seen Draco naked and it was amazing.Draco's cock looked perfect, standing erect in its nest of pale blond curls, the tip glistening with precum. Harry couldn't help himself; he leaned in and gently swiped his tongue over the head, tasting him.

He took the tip of Draco's cock into his mouth, sucking lightly. He concentrated hard on trying to remember what he had read in his book earlier that day, wanting more than anything to pleasure Draco.

As the Slytherin's hands tangled in his messy raven locks, Harry took hold of his courage and slowly took as much of Draco's cock into his mouth as he could. As he felt the tip brush against the back of his throat, Draco's hips gave a sudden thrust upwards, almost gagging him. Harry pulled back for a moment and Draco's length slid out of his mouth with a faint 'pop'

Harry pressed one hand flat against Draco's hips and eased his lips back onto his swollen cock, sliding them down the shaft. Harry hummed softly around Draco and felt his own cock twitch at the keening sound that escaped the blond's throat.

Harry fumbled at the fastenings on his own trousers and quickly thrust his hand inside his boxers, closing firmly around his own erection, stroking rapidly."Yes," Draco hissed. "Fuck yes, Harry!"

Encouraged by the reaction he was eliciting from his boyfriend, Harry pulled back and ran his tongue down the underside of Draco's cock, before tonguing the slit. Draco's hips were thrusting desperately against Harry's restraining hand, small whimpers of pleasure escaping his lips.

Harry looked up at his boyfriend and marvelled at what an erotic sight he was. Spread naked before him, eyes shut tight, his head thrown back and lips swollen. Harry increased the thrusts on his own erection before taking Draco back into his mouth again, sucking lightly at first, but then increasing in passion.

"Please," Draco begged, incapable of further speech.

Harry felt Draco tense and before he had time to understand his warning cry, he felt Draco's seed spurting into his mouth, warm and salty. Harry swallowed, wanting to take all that Draco offered him, and continued to suck at his now softening cock. A few more sharp tugs on his own erection and Harry was coming with a soft cry.

Harry crawled up Draco's body and placed a messy kiss on his lips, allowing the blond to taste himself.

Draco looked up at Harry, a dazed expression in his eyes. "That was amazing," he whispered. Draco then started to sit up. "I should do you too," he stated.

In reply, Harry held up his hand, still sticky with his own cum. "No need," he explained somewhat sheepishly. Slightly disappointed that he wouldn't get to taste Harry, Draco contented himself with taking his boyfriend's fingers between his lips, one by one, and sucking every last drop of Harry's seed off them.

Finally the two boys wrapped their arms around each other and snuggled close, the afterglow leaving them very sleepy. Harry was asleep in minutes, while Draco stayed awake gazing in amazement at his boyfriend, before he too was claimed by sleep.


	28. He Is Hot Though, Isn't He!

Draco woke up with a shiver and it took him a moment to look at his surroundings and realise where he was and, more to the point, why he was naked.

He turned his head and gazed at his boyfriend who was sleeping peacefully curled up around him. Draco leant down and kissed each of Harry's closed eyelids gently. His fingers tenderly brushed the messy black hair off Harry's forehead and slowly traced the lightning bolt scar with one cool fingertip.

Another light shiver reminded Draco why he was awake and he tried to wriggle free of the arms that were currently encircling him. At this movement Harry tightened his arms round Draco's waist.

"Stay," he murmured.

Draco smiled at this and placed a light kiss on the tip of Harry's nose, watching in amusement as, even in sleep, the boy wrinkled his nose up.

"Harry, wake up," Draco said softly, lightly shaking the sleeping boy.

Harry mumbled something unintelligible in reply but showed no signs of waking.

Draco shook him firmer this time. "Come on, Harry, time to get up," he said softly.

As an added incentive to wake his boyfriend up, Draco trailed his hand down Harry's body and cupped his groin lightly. Harry gave an unmistakeable thrust against Draco's hand before his eyes cracked open and he peered sleepily at the teasing blonde.

"Was havin a lovely dream," he protested. Then, as he registered the location of Draco's hand, his eyes widened slightly and a smile tugged at his lips.

"'S nice way to wake up," he murmured, grinding ever so slightly against his boyfriends hand.

"Sex fiend," Draco accused, a broad smile on his face. "Now let me out of this bear hug so I can get dressed.

Harry's arms tightened around Draco further, pulling the blond flush against his chest.

"Harry, I'm not a bloody teddy bear," Draco protested weakly.

"But you're so cuddly," Harry teased and gently flicked Draco's nose with his finger tip. "Anyway, I like you naked," he added, a gleam in his eye.

Draco gave a sharp twist and managed to escape Harry's grasp. He got to his feet and began looking for his discarded clothing.

"Next time you're the one who's getting naked," he muttered mutinously. "What the hell did you do with my boxers?"

Harry rolled over slightly and reached underneath himself, before extracting Draco's crumpled underwear.

"Is this what you're looking for?" he sing-songed, swinging the boxers slowly from his fingertips.

Draco scowled briefly and snatched them away. Harry rolled completely over onto his side and watched Draco as he began to dress and instantly mourned the loss of his boyfriend's naked form.

Seeing green eyes following his every move, Draco gave Harry a teasing smile.

"Like what you see?" he purred seductively, wiggling his hips as he shimmied into his trousers. Harry licked his lips reflexively and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

By the time Draco was fully clothed, Harry was hard enough to hammer nails. He had no idea how, but Draco managed to make getting dressed just as erotic as stripping off.

Harry sat up reluctantly as Draco held out a hand to him. He took hold of it and allowed the blonde to pull him to his feet, feeling a tiny shoot of electricity surge between their clasped hands.

Draco's eyes travelled to Harry's obvious arousal. "My, you're up early this morning," he smirked.

"Draco," Harry whined, his expression and tone pleading.

Draco quirked his eyebrow. "Harry, it's nearly 5 am in the morning and I have Quidditch practice in 5 hours. I'm going back to my bed to get some sleep and I suggest you do the same."

He grinned wickedly here and brushed his hand over Harry's erection, "Though I would suggest that you take care of this particular pressing matter first."

Harry groaned and glared at Draco. "Evil git," he muttered.

Draco chuckled at his boyfriend's frustration and gave him a quick kiss before taking hold of his hand and leading him to the door. A quick wave of his wand and he vanished all evidence of their evening. Although Harry fancied that there was still a faint musky aroma of sex in the air.

Feeling brave, they walked hand in hand down the corridor till they reached the staircase. Casting a quick look round first, Harry leaned in and captured Draco's lips in a lingering kiss.

Harry eventually broke the embrace reluctantly. "See you later," he whispered breathlessly.

"Yes," Draco agreed. "Oh, Harry, don't forget that if Pansy asks, you ate those chocolates, not me."

Harry grinned. "Coward," he accused lightly.

"It's not cowardice; I prefer to think of it as self preservation."

Both boys were still chuckling lightly as they turned to go their separate ways. Harry went up to the 7th floor and Gryffindor tower, while Draco headed down to the dungeons.

Several hours later, Harry dragged his tired body down to breakfast. He already had the beginnings of a headache flashing behind his eyes and not even the Pepperup Potion he had consumed had completely eradicated his exhaustion.

As he made his way to the Gryffindor table it was all he could do to stifle a groan at the sight of Ginny gesturing to an empty seat at the side of her. Knowing there was nothing else for it, he headed over in her direction, a fake smile plastered to his face.

"Morning, Harry, I saved a seat for you." Her smile was so earnest that Harry felt a brief flash of guilt.

He settled down in to the seat at the side of her and was relieved to spot Seamus sitting opposite. The Irish boy was grinning back at him, "thank God you turned up Harry. She's been guarding that seat like a bulldog for the last 20 minutes. Neville tried to sit there and nearly lost an eye in the process."

"That was an accident, Seamus, and you know it," Ginny snapped.

"Yeah, well it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't had your damn wand shoved up your sleeve at the breakfast table. It's not like Nev was expecting to get poked in the eye."

Harry looked up at this remark and glanced over at Neville who had one bloodshot eye. "You okay, Neville," he asked in between mouthfuls of porridge.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It stung a bit at first but it's alright now. It's OK, Ginny." He turned to the tense redhead. "I know it was an accident."

"So, Harry."

Harry felt distinctly uneasy as he looked up and saw the teasing grin on Seamus' face.

"You look tired this morning. Did you have a 'hard' night?" There was no mistaking the suggestion behind either his words or the glint in his eyes and Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

"No, I'm fine, Shay. I just didn't sleep that much," Harry answered cautiously whilst flashing a questioning look at Neville. Seamus sounded like he knew something, or at least suspected and that made Harry nervous, especially with Ginny so close by.

Neville shrugged in return, indicating he had no idea what the Irish boy knew. Harry decided that avoidance was the best tactic for now, so he gulped down the remainder of his porridge and pushed back from his seat.

"I need to get to the library early," he offered by way of explanation for his departure.

He got only a few footsteps before he heard Ginny calling after him.

"Wait up, Harry; I'll walk out with you."

Ginny was at his side almost instantly and she linked her arm through his. Harry cast a nervous glance over to the Slytherin table but was relieved to find Draco grinning back at him, obviously enjoying Harry's discomfort. At least it's better that being pissed off at me, Harry told himself.

As they exited the Great Hall, Harry was desperately racking his brains for a way to throw Ginny off. He was about resigned to his fate when he spotted Pansy on the other side of the room giving him a sympathetic smile.

He quickly disengaged his arm from Ginny's and made his excuses.

"I've just spotted Pansy over there, Gin, and I need to have a word with her. I'll see you later, yeah?"

Harry barely waited for a reply before hurrying across the hall; he completely missed the positively murderous glare that Ginny sent in the other girl's direction.

"She doesn't give up easily, does she?" Pansy smirked over Harry's shoulder in the direction of the angry red head.

Harry followed her gaze. "Who, Ginny? She knows we're just friends."

"And I'm a Hufflepuff," Pansy returned. She ran her eyes critically over Harry. "You look like shit," she stated firmly. "Did Draco keep you up all night?" she questioned, a slight leer in her tone.

Harry shook his head reprovingly. "Sorry, Pansy, but I have been given strict instructions by Draco never to discuss our private life with you" he explained much to the girl's chagrin.

"That bloody boy spoils all my fun," Pansy huffed. "Did you at least enjoy the chocolates?"

Remembering Draco's warning, Harry nodded. "Yes, they were lovely. Poor Draco barely got a look in, they were that nice."

"Nice try." She smiled. "But you can tell Draco I'm not fooled."

Harry only grinned foolishly at this, knowing he was a hopeless liar anyway.

"Are you doing down to watch him practice later?" Pansy questioned. "I thought you might like some company?"

Harry nodded. "Sure. I've got to head up to the library first, but I'll come get you just before 10?"

"The library, this close to breakfast?" Pansy asked in a tone that really said 'are you mad?'

"You've spent too many years hanging round with Granger, Harry. You're in danger of turning into a book worm."

Harry only laughed at this and gave the girl a gentle shove. "I'll see you later," he offered before turning and heading for the main staircase.

Pansy smiled to herself as she watched him go before turning around and heading towards the dungeons.

As she walked down the dim lit corridors, Pansy felt like she was being watched or followed. She stopped and took a look behind but could see nothing. Trying to shake off the feeling, she carried on purposefully. As she was walking down a short flight of steps, she felt her foot catch on something invisible and before she could save herself, she was tumbling forwards.

Pansy put her arms out in a vain effort to break her fall but she still hit the stone floor with quite a thud and she could feel the warm blood trickle into her mouth from her split lip. Before she could recover herself and get off the floor, she felt a knee pressed between her shoulder blades and a hand grab tightly at her hair.

Pansy froze at this, so terrified that she was unable to move or attempt to defend herself. It didn't matter how many times she tried to tell herself it wasn't them, all she could think about was what had happened to her the last time she had been pinned down like this.

"You're pathetic, you know that?" an angry voice demanded. Pansy knew that she recognised the voice, but was so overwhelmed by fear that she couldn't properly process it.

"You're nothing but a worthless piece of shit." The hand was pulling hard on her hair and then suddenly released it, so that Pansy's head smacked, once again, onto the cold hard floor.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from Harry. He's far too good for scum like you and I won't let you drag him down to your level."

Pansy knew for sure now who her attacker was; she didn't need to see Ginny Weasley's face to know it was her. But somehow that knowledge didn't make her any less scared.

"Do you think he would want anything to do with you if he knew you were nothing more than a Death Eater whore?"

Pansy's breath caught in her throat at this, she couldn't know, could she? Yet there was a certain smugness in Ginny's voice that told Pansy she could and she did know.

Once she was satisfied that she had got her message across to the Slytherin girl, Ginny stood up and looked down at Pansy with disgust on her face. She aimed at couple of hard kicks at Pansy's ribs.

"They should have done us all a favour and killed you when they did your father."

That said she paused only long enough to spit on the prostrate girl, before turning and leaving without another word.

Pansy lay on the dungeon floor trying to get her erratic breathing under control, the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. She slowly dragged herself to her feet, wincing at the ache in her ribs and the throbbing in her head. Tidying herself up as best she could, she scurried quickly to the safety of the Slytherin common room.

Meanwhile, Harry was up in the library, hunting through the shelves with a zeal that would have made Hermione proud.

After his relationship with Draco had progressed to another level the night before, Harry had been left with a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Not because he didn't want to be doing these things with Draco, because he did, more than anything.

What worried him was the thought of Draco seeing him without his clothes on. That Draco would take one look at the cuts on Harry's arm and decide that he couldn't handle someone with that kind of baggage. What Harry was looking for was a strong Glamour charm, one that would last longer than the few hours than the one he currently used did.

He hunted through book after book, but his goal proved elusive. He rammed a thick book back onto the shelf with unnecessary force, causing a loud bang to echo through the almost empty library.

"Harry," a familiar voice sounded in a reproving tone. "You should be gentler, some of these books are really old."

Harry span round, an angry retort on tip of his tongue, to find Hermione smiling at him almost shyly.

"Hermione, hi!" was all he managed.

"I'm not used to seeing you in here this early in the morning. What are you looking for?"

Harry fought down the urge to tell Hermione to mind her own business. It occurred to him that she was the one person who could help him find what he was looking for; all he had to do was tell her a little white lie.

Once he had told the bushy-haired girl what he wanted and explained that it was to hide the scar on his forehead, she was only too happy to slip into the restricted section and retrieve the required book. Harry did feel a little guilty about lying to her, but not enough that he was willing to share the truth with her.

"Here you are." Hermione dropped a particularly dusty book down on the table in front of him. She flipped it open at a particular page and jabbed at it with her finger.

"This one should do the trick. It's the strongest one you can use without actually getting into dark magic."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said with genuine warmth in his tone. He pulled the book towards him and began to read eagerly. "You're a life saver," he offered, somewhat distractedly.

Hermione slid into the seat opposite Harry and watched him, a concerned look on her face."Are you feeling OK? You don't look too well?"

"What?" Harry looked up, running his fingers through his already messy hair and Hermione had to bite back a smile as the action simply made it even wilder."You look tired," Hermione pressed on. "Are you sleeping ok?"

Harry shrugged dismissively at her concerned expression.

"I'm OK," he answered flatly.

"You seem to be getting on better with Ginny lately, are you two getting back together?"

She had Harry's full attention with this question. His head snapped up, his eyes wide in surprise.

"What?" he demanded loudly. At Hermione's disapproving expression, he lowered his voice before continuing.

"Where the bloody hell did you get that idea from? "Hermione tutted. "There's no need to swear, it was a simple question. Ginny was saying that you were friends now and how well you were getting on, I just got the impression that things were getting back on track between you."

Harry fought at the sneer he could feel curling at his lip as he looked at the defensive girl in front of him.

"There is nothing going on between me and Ginny," he stated firmly. "She came to me wanting to be friends and I agreed because I felt bad about how things ended. But there is now way on earth that we are getting back together, so you can get that idea out of your head right now."

"It's not my head you want to worry about the idea being in Harry," Hermione retorted. "It's not very nice of you to lead her on if you don't feel anything for her."

Harry slammed his quill down on the table top, his eyes flashing with barely suppressed anger.

"Ginny knows perfectly well that there is nothing between us and that there never will be. Merlin knows I've told her enough times. It's over between us and the sooner you all accept it, the better. Now if you don't mind..." Harry picked up his quill again and began to write, not trusting himself to speak further.

Realising that she was being dismissed, Hermione bid a quiet farewell and made her way back over to her own pile of books. Harry was so wrapped up in his task that he completely missed the sad look that she cast in his direction.

Harry hurriedly copied the charm onto a spare piece of parchment and tucked it securely into his jeans pocket. Unable to return the book to the restricted section, he took it over to the main desk and handed it over to Madam Pince and hurried off before she could question him.

As they made their way out of the dungeons, Harry eyed Pansy thoughtfully. She seemed quieter than usual and slightly on edge, added to that was the cut on her lip and faint bruise on her cheek, all of which aroused Harry's suspicions.

"You OK, Pansy?" he enquired as they headed into the entrance hall.

"Huh? Sorry, what did you say? I was miles away."

"Anywhere nice?" he teased lightly.

"Not really," Pansy replied tonelessly and Harry didn't miss the fain shudder that ran through her body.

Not wanting to press her further when she seemed unwilling to share, Harry changed tack.

"How did you hurt your face?"

Pansy's hand went automatically to her swollen lip, touching it gently. "What? This? It's nothing really; you should see the other person." She smiled as she spoke but Harry was a veteran at faking emotions and he easily spotted that it never reached her eyes.

"Pansy," he began seriously.

"It's nothing, Harry, don't worry. Some joker just got me with a Tripping Jinx and I went down with all the grace of a drunken troll."

Harry sensed that there was more to it but didn't want to force the girls confidence. He held a deep resentment people who pried into your private business under the guise of concern and he had no desire to join their ranks.

He let it go for the moment but resolved to mention it to Draco later. He figured that, as close as they were, if Pansy would confide in anyone, it would be him.

As they made their way down to the Quidditch pitch, Harry spotted Ginny and Hermione huddled together, whispering furiously. Both girls turned their heads to stare at them and Harry felt Pansy tense briefly at his side. However, she recovered quickly and with a toss of her hair, she slipped her arm through Harry's and shot a defiant glare in the red heads direction.

Harry took one look at Pansy's expression and Ginny's narrowed glare and, unfortunately for all concerned, put two and two together and came up with nothing like four. He mistook Pansy's actions for that of a girl protecting her best friends boyfriend from the attentions of an ex girlfriend, and completely failed to make the link between this brief standoff and Pansy's recent injuries.

By the time Harry and Pansy had climbed the countless steps to the top of the Quidditch stands, the Slytherin team were already in the air. They settled themselves down near the front and lapsed into silence as they watched the practice.

For Harry, it was like watching Draco fly for the first time. Previously he had either been flying against the blond, or watching through eyes biased by hate. But now, as his eyes trailed his boyfriend through the air, Harry realised just how good Draco really was. Draco wasn't as quick in the air as Harry but he had a natural grace that made his flying look almost effortless. As he flew near to the stands, Harry was able to see the look of pure joy on the blond's face as he swooped after the snitch. The wind had left his normally pristine hair dishevelled and his pale cheeks pink, almost giving him a post orgasm flush that definitely caught Harry's interest.

"You know, Harry," Pansy began conversationally, interrupting his musing. "When the rest of the team found out you were coming to watch practice, they weren't happy at all. They thought you were coming to spy on them."

"Really?"" Harry asked an amused smile on his face.

"Yes," Pansy nodded. "But once Draco explained that you were only coming down cos you liked to stare at his arse in tight Quidditch breeches, they didn't seem to mind so much."

Harry's jaw dropped at this and he felt the familiar hot flush creeping up his cheeks. "Please tell me you're joking?" he pleaded.

Pansy laughed lightly at this. "You really are too easy to embarrass you know? You'd think hanging around with Slytherins would have cured you of that."

"I can't believe he said that, he is in so much trouble," Harry muttered to himself as he turned an outraged glare in the direction of his oblivious boyfriend. However, as he ran his eyes over Draco's lean form, Harry was forced to admit that there may have been some truth in his boyfriend's teasing. Leaning back in his seat with a smile on his face, he spoke so quietly that Pansy almost missed his words.

"He is hot though, isn't he?"

Pansy giggled wildly at this. "Yes, Harry, he certainly is." Then, sensing that Harry was fairly relaxed, she leaned over and whispered conspiratorially in his ear

"So, how was last night? Blaise said Draco didn't get back till gone 5am."

Harry only grinned and shook his head at her. "Pansy, you know I'm under strict orders from Draco to tell nothing."

"Since when did you take orders from a Malfoy, Harry? Come on, be a man."

Harry laughed at this and turned his attention back to the game.

"C'mon Harry," Pansy whined. "I have to get my kicks vicariously, it's not like I have a love life of my own."

"What about you and Theodore? I thought you had a bit of a thing for him?"

Pansy's eyes widened at this. "Who told you that?"

"No one had to tell me. I have eyes and I'm not as oblivious as everyone seems to think."

Pansy sat back in her seat looking thoughtful for a moment before speaking again.

"Theo and I are just friends. I'm not really ready for anything else right now. He is cute though."

Harry smirked at this and gave her a nudge with his elbow, completely missing the brief flash of pain that crossed Pansy's face as he made contact with her tender ribs.

"You never know, maybe he'll ask you to the Halloween dance."

Pansy only shrugged and turned her face away, but not before Harry spotted her sad expression.

Harry turned back to watch the practice session and realised that it was ending. Draco was shouting his last few directions to his team in an authoritative manner, which Harry found quite a turn on, before sending them off to the showers.

Harry and Pansy made their way back down from the stands but when they came out on the pitch, Harry couldn't spot Draco's blond head amongst his team mates. They both stood straining to catch a glimpse of him, when a hand shot out and dragged Harry under the stands.

Pansy grinned wildly at the sight of Draco dragging Harry off and stood guard so they weren't disturbed.

Before he knew where he was, Harry found himself pressed up against the canvas wall, strong arms tight around his waist. Draco's lips captured Harry's in a forceful, almost bruising kiss that caused the Gryffindor to moan in pleasure.

Harry surrendered totally to the embrace, the feel of Draco's body pressed hard against him, their clothed erections brushing together in a way that caused delicious flutters of pleasure to run through both their bodies.

Draco's knee nudged between Harry's legs, pushing them further apart, allowing the blond to settle between them. He reached down and placed a hand under each of Harry's knees, and before the Gryffindor knew what was happening, his legs were locked round Draco's waist, their erections pressed closer than ever.

"That's better," Draco purred as he thrust harder.

"Draco," Harry managed to gasp. "We can't do this here, someone will see."

Draco simply silenced Harry's protests with his lips, his tongue plundering the dark-haired boy's mouth. Harry completely gave over to the sensations that were coursing through his body; he locked his arms around Draco's neck and kissed back with a passion he didn't know he contained.

Their tongues duelled furiously, teeth biting, fingers digging harshly into each other's bodies. Harry ground himself rhythmically against Draco, getting more frantic with each burst of pleasure that shot though him.

Harry lowered his head to the crook of Draco's neck and muffled his groans as he came hard. Draco grabbed hold of Harry's arse, pulling him tight against him. He gave several hard thrusts and had to bite down hard on his lip to keep from crying out Harry's name as he came.

Harry slid bonelessly to the floor and would have fallen to the ground if it wasn't for Draco's arm holding him around the waist. The two boys stood, leaning against each other, only the sound of their steadying breathing.

After a moment Harry looked up at Draco, his lips swollen and cheeks flushed. He opened his mouth to speak but found he didn't know quite what to say. Draco grinned down at him and kissed his cheek lightly.

"If only all Quidditch practices ended like that! Come on, let's get you back up to the school." He led Harry over to the entrance, his arm still tight round smaller boy's waist.

"Think you can stay upright now?" Draco grinned.

Harry nodded and failed to suppress a yawn. Draco looked at him in concern, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes.

"Harry, you look knackered. Come back to my dorm and you can take a nap, don't want you falling asleep on me tonight, do we?" Draco finished up with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

Harry nodded weakly, feeling the ache of his head begin to return now that he was no longer so distracted.

As they exited the stands, Pansy took one look at their dishevelled appearance and promptly burst out laughing.

"Not a word, Parkinson," Draco growled."Sorry, Draco," Pansy said in between chuckles. "It's just that Harry looks so dazed, whatever did you do to him?"

"Nothing he didn't enjoy, now come on and stop yakking."

By the time Draco got out of the shower half an hour later, he found Harry curled up in his bed snoring softly. The blond stood for a few minutes just watching his boyfriend sleep, marvelling, not for the first time, that Harry had chosen him, a Malfoy.

He leant down and brushed his lips against Harry's forehead and ruffled his messy hair. He then tucked the sheets in snug around the sleeping boy's body, before heading back into the common room where he threatened both his roommates with certain death if they, in anyway, disturbed Harry's sleep.

Draco caught sight of Pansy smirking at him. "What?" he asked, irritated.

Pansy grinned at him in reply. She leant in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and leaned back to enjoy the flush that spread across his face.

"What the bloody hell was that for, Parkinson?"

"I couldn't help it, you're just adorable."

Before Draco had time to react with his usual 'Malfoy's are not adorable' rant, Pansy turned on her heel and fled in the direction of the girl's dormitory, giggling madly.


	29. Intense Scrutiny And A Fire Call

Over the next few days Harry felt like he was gradually becoming weaker. He slept almost constantly outside of lessons and though Draco was the epitome of the caring boyfriend, Harry figured that the blonde was probably feeling quite frustrated.

On the nights that Harry managed to stay awake long enough to make it to Draco's bed, he was inevitably too tired to engage in anything more taxing than sleeping. Not that Draco made an issue out of it. In fact, if Harry hadn't experienced it for himself, he would never have believed that the Slytherin could be so caring and considerate. He never raised a murmur of protest when Harry would snuggle down under the covers, leaving him to take care of his own 'pressing' needs.

Draco reflected that he hadn't wanked this much since he had first discovered the pleasure his hand could bring as a young boy.

It didn't seem to matter how much sleep that Harry got, it was never enough. There were dark smudges permanently under his eyes, which had lost any sign of their old shine. His skin had an unhealthy pallor and his head seemed to ache constantly.

Granted it was nowhere near the pain he was used to experiencing following one of Voldemort's visions, but it was a dull, nagging ache that never seemed to ease.

Harry's appetite had been affected also much to Draco's displeasure. After several mornings of watching his boyfriend either push his food about listlessly or simply not turning up for breakfast, Draco decided it was time to take action.

On Thursday morning Harry walked down to the Great Hall with Neville, trying to maintain a conversation in between yawns. His head was feeling better as he had managed to snaffle a pain relieving potion on one of his, invisibility cloak aided, night-time forays around the castle. Added to that there were the muggle energy boosting pills that he had managed to get George to buy and owl him. All in all Harry wasn't feeling too bad, all things considered.

As Harry started to tread his usual path towards the Gryffindor table, eyes cast down to avoid seeing Ginny, he felt Neville take hold of his arm and begin to pull him to the right.

Harry stopped and looked at his friend in confusion.

"Err, Neville, the tables that way," he indicated with a nod of his head.

Neville shook his head firmly, a smile in place. "Not this morning it isn't, I've had my orders."

"Orders?" Harry spluttered. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Neville's smile faded slightly in the face of his friend's irritation but he began pulling Harry in the direction of the Slytherin table all the same.

"Draco," was all the explanation he offered, but Harry didn't really need anything further.

At their approach Pansy scooted along and made room for Harry between her and Draco, while Neville dropped down next to Blaise.

"He didn't put up a fight then, Longbottom?" Draco drawled.

Neville shook his head. "Nope, no trouble at all," he mumbled through a mouthful of bacon that he had snagged off his boyfriend's plate.

Draco winced at this but managed to restrain himself from reprimanding the other boy for his table manners and settled instead for glaring at Blaise who was smirking at him knowingly.

"I am here you know," Harry snapped indignantly.

Draco turned to his boyfriend and patted his arm gently. "Of course you are, Harry, now eat." He wound up with a pointed glare at Harry's plate which sat; empty, in front of him.

When Harry made no effort to fill his plate, Draco snatched it up and began loading it up with various food items.

"But, Draco," Harry whined, "I'm not even that hungry. I'll never eat all that." His bottom lip pouted and Draco had to suppress a strong urge to lean down and suckle on it.

"You can and you will," replied the blond in a tone that brooked no argument. "It's that or I pin you down while Pansy force feeds you."

"It's a little early for me to engage in such kinky behaviour, but if you want to restrain me later..." Harry trailed off with a suggestive wink at his boyfriend.

"Harry," Draco began in a warning voice. "You've hardly eaten in days and you're getting skinny. If I had wanted a scrawny boyfriend I would be dating Theodore."

"Hey," came the injured cry from the thin boy on Draco's left side. "How did I manage to get dragged into your domestic?"

"Sorry, Theo, just using you to illustrate a point. It's nothing personal you understand? And you," he turned to Harry with a glare, "eat!"

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Neville beat him to it.

"Maybe you should have a word with Madam Pomfrey, Draco. I'm sure she would have just the Potion to get Harry eating again."

Harry stared open-mouthed at the usually quiet Gryffindor, silent accusation in his eyes.

"You may have a point, Neville. How about it, Harry? It's that," he indicated Harry's plate with a jab of his finger, "or Pomfrey."

There was no question of which option Harry would choose, as well Neville had known when he made the suggestion. As lovely as Madam Pomfrey was, Harry had a hearty dislike of the hospital wing, borne of too many stays there in previous years.

He gave a mournful look at Neville, "et tu, Brute?" he muttered. Then, seeing the confusion on Draco's face he added, "Sorry, Muggle literature reference, I keep forgetting you won't get it."

Draco scoffed. "Please, Potter, I know Julius Caesar when I hear it. I'm just a little surprised that you know Shakespeare."

"But why would you..." Harry began. Then, taking in the amused smirk on Draco's face, his mouth gaped slightly. "Are you trying to say that Shakespeare was a wizard?"

"Yes," Draco nodded. "Well, actually more of a Squib. As if a Muggle would have that much talent, really, Harry." The blond shook his head in amusement before turning back to Harry with narrowed eyes.

"Now, stop sidetracking and eat!"Over the next week Harry became a permanent fixture at the Slytherin table, with Draco closely supervising his eating habits.

Harry felt like he should be rebelling against this level of control but it left him with a warm fuzzy feeling of being cared for that he was most unused to. As a result of this he acquiesced to Draco's demands willingly.

Pansy too, found herself the subject of Draco's intense scrutiny. Like Harry, Draco had not been convinced by the vague explanation she had given for her injuries. As a result, Pansy found that she was managed to the extent that she rarely had a moment to herself, except the bathroom and bed.

As much as Pansy was chafing against the restraints on her freedom, she understood the concern behind Draco's actions and she too complied with out protest.

The shared experience of Draco's somewhat controlling affection led to Harry and Pansy becoming closer and spending an increased amount of time in each other's company. They regularly banded together in teasing Draco over what they called his 'mother hen' act.

Pansy did consider, on several occasions, confiding the truth to Harry. But she was still wary of how he would react to her accusing Ginny when it was apparent that he and the redhead were on improved terms of late.

Harry, for his part, had to admit to himself that since Draco's intervention he was certainly feeling much better. The headaches had all but gone and he felt his energy levels increasing by the day.

Plus, the more time he spent with the Slytherins, the more intrigued he was by them. The way there was an acknowledged, but unspoken, hierarchy at their table, the way they had just accepted his presence at Draco's side without dissent as a mark of deference to their blond leader. Most surprising of all was their unquestioning loyalty to each other that would have put a Hufflepuff to shame. All in all, Harry found that he continually had to reassess his opinions of Slytherin house.

All of this went some way to explaining Harry's confusion the following Saturday morning when, on approaching the Slytherin table, he saw that Draco was not seated in his rightful place. Not even bothering to scan the remainder of the table, Harry knew there was no way Draco would be sitting lower down; he sank down into his assumed place at the side of Pansy.

"Where's Draco?" he asked instantly and was then forced to wait impatiently as Pansy swallowed a mouthful of food.

"He had to go see McGonagall," Pansy explained.

A quick look at the head table confirmed the Head Mistresses absence, and on closer inspection Harry noticed that Professor Slughorn was absent also. He turned back to Pansy who answered his next question even before he had asked it.

"I don't know what it's all about and I don't think Draco knew either. He seemed as curious as the rest of us when Professor Slughorn came to fetch him."

Harry felt a growing knot of worry twist in his stomach. It had to be something important enough to make all concerned miss breakfast. He tortured himself for a few minutes with various possibilities before a sharp dig to his ribs brought him back to his current surroundings.

"Eat something, Harry," Pansy advised. "You know Draco will ask and I wouldn't want to be in your shoes if you don't."

Reluctantly admitting the truth of this statement, Harry nodded and began filling a bowl with steaming porridge.

He ate thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on the door waiting for a familiar blond head to appear. By the time the owls had been and gone with the mornings post, there was still no sign of Draco and Harry was finding his breakfast increasingly hard to stomach.

He was so lost in thought that the increased chatter in the hall went unnoticed, as did the pointed stares that were directed at the Slytherin table. He didn't even spot a brave second year girl making her way to their end of the table and pressing a copy of that mornings edition of the Daily Prophet into Pansy's hands.

He did, however, hear the loud clatter as Pansy's goblet dropped from her hand and crashed against the table, covering everyone in range with pumpkin juice.

Harry turned concerned eyes to the dark-haired girl.

"Pansy, what is it?" he asked, alarmed at how pale her face was. She raised wide eyes to his and thrust the paper at him by way of a reply.

Confused, Harry took the paper from her slightly shaking hands and instantly realised the cause of her distress. The bold headline almost leapt off the page.

'DEATH EATER AT DEATHS DOOR!'

Underneath was a picture of a sneering Lucius Malfoy in his pre-Azkaban finery. There followed an explanation of how he had been suddenly taken ill whilst in prison and was not expected to live much longer. The writer seemed almost positively happy to be reporting this news, and whilst Harry could privately understand this emotion, his only thoughts at this moment were for Draco.

Pansy was already on her feet tugging at his arm. "C'mon Harry, we have to find Draco."

Harry sat dazed for a moment but at the sight of Blaise getting to his feet as well, he jumped out of his chair and soon all three of them were heading out of the door. They decided to head up to the North Tower, in the hope that Draco would still be in McGonagall's office and they could catch him on the way out.

As luck would have it they didn't need to stray anywhere near this far to locate their friend. As they made their way into the Entrance Hall, they were met with the sight of a downcast looking Draco talking to Professor Slughorn. The three friends came skidding to a halt and watched as their teacher gave Draco what he thought was a comforting pat on the shoulder before walking away.

Harry's heart ached at the sight of his boyfriend, who just stood in the vast hall looking so small and lost. Harry hurried over and reached Draco long before the other two realised what was happening. He placed his hand on Draco's arm and a pair of startled grey eyes turned to look at him.

Harry could tell that Draco was struggling to maintain his composure and was sure he would not want this to be witnessed by the many students that Harry could now hear exiting the Great Hall. He took hold of Draco's arm and pulled him down a corridor just off the Entrance Hall. He led them into a room, which he instantly recognised to be Firenze's divination classroom by virtue of it currently resembling a forest glade

Harry shut the door quickly and cast a quick Locking Charm against it. He turned to look at Draco and found it was like looking at a young child. He was stood still with his hands clasped in front of him and his head bowed so that his face was hidden behind the platinum curtain of his hair.

Harry quickly closed the gap between them and tentatively brushed the hair back from Draco's face.

"Are you OK?" he whispered softly.

Draco made no reply other than to fling himself into Harry's arms and hold on tight. They stood, locked in this silent embrace for several minutes. Harry could almost feel the blond in his arms struggling to regain his composure and didn't want to say anything that would shatter the fragile hold that Draco had on his self-control.

He stroked his hand down the back of Draco's head, his fingers gently caressing the nape of his neck. His lips pressing light kisses to his boyfriend's temple.

"They won't even let Mother visit him," Draco said brokenly, pulling back from Harry's arms and turning sad eyes to the Gryffindor.

"What?" Harry's sense of justice was outraged instantly. "They can't do that."

Draco shrugged. "Technically they can. Until this blasted investigation is closed she is still under house arrest. Plus we're Malfoy's, so it's not like anyone is going to be in a hurry to care."

"Well I bloody well do," Harry raged, angrier because of the defeated expression on Draco's face than anything else.

"It's OK, Harry." Draco replied with a watery smile, pulling back from the embrace. "We'd better go otherwise Pansy will 'reducto' her way in here any second."

Harry was about to argue that it most definitely was not OK, but Draco's eyes were pleading with him to leave it. Harry briefly captured Draco's lips with his own, trying to pour everything that he wanted to say into that kiss. Draco seemed to understand; he pulled back and taking Harry's hands into his own pressed them tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered. "It means a lot that you care."

Both boys then walked to the door, only dropping their hands as they exited the room. Pansy and Blaise immediately swooped down upon them but a forbidding look from Draco prevented any maudlin behaviour.

"I'm OK," he said stoically.

Pansy slipped her arm through Draco's and the group turned, heading as one in the direction of the dungeons. As they walked across the Entrance Hall there were many other students milling about. Draco kept his head down, not wanting to be subject of his classmates' curiosity. They were halfway across the hall when a shouted comment brought them to an abrupt halt.

"Hey, Malfoy, sorry to hear about your father."

There was no mistaking the derision with which these words were spoken. Harry watched as Draco's whole body tensed up and his fists clenched at his sides. He placed his hand on the blond's shoulder.

"Don't, Draco," he muttered. "It's what they want you to do."

Harry was relieved to see the fists unclench and they made to continue walking. Not happy at being ignored, the heckler tried again.

"Yeah, I was really sorry to hear that the bastard wasn't dead already. Still, there's time yet..."

Draco barely had time to process his reaction to this comment before Harry had crossed the Hall and landed a strong punch, sending Wayne Hopkins crashing to the floor.

"I suggest you stay down and keep your mouth shut," Harry warned, his voice cold and toneless.

Harry looked round for Draco and was surprised to see a crowd had formed round him. Draco was separated from him by several rows of people and Harry just wanted to climb over them to comfort his boyfriend. Both Pansy and Blaise gave him an approving nod but all Harry wanted was to hold Draco in his arms again.

Before he could do anything a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Harry, mate, you need to calm down."

Harry looked round and found himself staring into Ron's concern-filled eyes.

"I'm fine, Ron," he answered tightly, but he allowed the calming hand to remain on his shoulder.

"Harry, you shouldn't have done that. There'll be trouble now." A bushy head appeared at the side of Ron and Harry found himself irked further by the worry in Hermione's brown eyes.

As if to bear out the truth of Hermione's words, a stern voice sounded from behind them.

"Mr Potter, what is the meaning of this disgraceful behaviour. That will be twent points from Gryffindor and detention with me, Monday night."

Harry looked at Professor Sinistra's angry face, then down at Wayne Hopkins' bleeding nose and felt that it was completely worth it.

"Yes, Professor," he nodded dutifully. "Sorry."

"Miss Granger, perhaps you could escort Mr Potter back to Gryffindor tower and see to it that he calms down before setting him loose on the unsuspecting student population again."

Harry's head jerked up at this. "But I was..." His eyes drifted in Draco's direction, indicating where he wanted to go.

"I'm sure that Mr Malfoy's friends are more than capable of seeing to his needs without you."

Harry choked down the urge to bite back that Pansy had better not be seeing to his boyfriends needs. He cast an apologetic look at the blond' who only shrugged apathetically.

Hermione's hand was on his elbow. "Come on Harry."

Harry followed but had never resented his friend more than at that moment.

The walk back up to Gryffindor tower was painfully silent. Harry stalked ahead while Ron and Hermione followed behind; he was annoyed just imagining the looks that were passing between the two of them.

He spat the password at the Fat Lady and slammed through the portrait hole, not even pausing to hold it open for the other two. He headed straight for his dormitory, not heading Hermione's plea's to stop and talk about it.

Harry made his way into his bedroom and flung himself down on his bed. He had barely got comfortable before the door was opening and Hermione's bushy hair appeared, followed by the nervous looking girl herself.

"Harry," she began tentatively, as she perched on the edge of his bed. "What happened back there? It's not like you to lash out like that. Well, maybe it is a little, but you hardly know Wayne."

Harry kept his lips stubbornly pressed together and refused to make eye contact with her. If he thought that this would get rid of her, then he was sadly mistaken.

"Was it something to do with Malfoy?"

Harry sat bold upright at the mention of Draco and Hermione was a little startled at the anger in his eyes.

"He told Draco that he hoped his father died.""Oh," Hermione gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment. "How is his Father?"

"Why do you care?" Harry accused, but relented at the hurt expression on Hermione's face. He rubbed at his eyes, "I don't know really. They won't let his mum visit him."

"That's terrible."

Harry looked at his friend, as if checking for the sincerity of her words.

"What?" she asked, stung by this. "Yes, I think Lucius Malfoy is a bastard. But that doesn't mean I want him dead. How come they won't let her?"

Harry just shrugged. "She's still under investigation. The Ministry have been dragging it out for months and until it's over she can't leave the house."

"But surely they would make an exception under the circumstances?"

"You'd think that, wouldn't you, but Draco seems to think that the Ministry is rather enjoying making the Malfoys suffer as much as possible."

Hermione looked thoughtful at this. "He may well be right. People have long memories and Lucius Malfoy has made plenty of enemies in his time." She stopped for a moment as if choosing her next words very carefully, "How's Malfoy doing?"

"How do you expect?" Harry snapped, unable to help himself.

"Sorry, Hermione," he shook his head. "He's upset, angry, all the things you would expect, I guess. I didn't really get chance to talk to him properly and he'd only try to put on a brave face anyway. Draco loves his father, despite everything, and I'm worried about how he'll react if he doesn't get a chance to say goodbye at least.""Couldn't someone speak to the Ministry on their behalf, plead their case sort of?"

"And who's going to do that?" Harry demanded bitterly. "You said it yourself; the Malfoys made a lot of enemies. Most people won't care and the majority of them will probably just think they deserve everything they get. God, Hermione, if it wasn't for Draco I would probably be thinking that too."

Hermione agreed reluctantly with this sentiment. She had her own personal reasons for not caring what happened to either of the elder Malfoys. Memories of being tortured in their home were still too fresh in her memory for any goodwill to exist. She placed a hand on Harry's leg and rubbed absentmindedly while she thought, the silence in the room quite oppressive.

"Harry," Hermione gasped in a tone that one would use to cry 'eureka!' "You're the Boy Who Lived – Twice!"

"And that's relevant how exactly?" Harry had a sneer on his face as he spoke.

"Take that look of your face," Hermione reprimanded. "You are obviously spending too much time in Malfoy's company; you're even picking up his facial expressions."

"Sorry," Harry muttered, but didn't exactly sound like he meant it. Hermione decided to let it go and ploughed on with what she was saying.

"You saved the wizarding world from Voldemort."

"Hermione," Harry interrupted sharply. "As wonderful as all these complements are, could you get to the point please?"

With a roll of her eyes and a barely suppress tut, the bushy-haired girl continued without even acknowledging her friend's outburst.

"What I'm trying to say Harry is that if the Ministry were going to listen to anyone about the Malfoys, then it would be you. They owe you a debt." She dismissed his protest with an impatient wave of her hand.

"I know you hate all this gratitude and fame, but surely if you can use it to do something good for a friend, then it's worth it. If anyone can do it, it's you. For God's sake, Harry, you're on first name terms with the Minister."

"So you're saying what? That I should just Owl Kingsley? That will take too long Hermione; Draco's father could be dead before that letter gets to him in the Ministry."Again, Hermione rolled her eyes and gave a small shake of her head. "Harry, Harry," she sighed, "If you had ever bothered to read Hogwarts: A History, you would know that there is a direct fire link between the Heads' office and the current Minister."

"So I could just Fire call him from McGonagall's office?" Harry's eyes were wide with hope now and Hermione was relieved to see the defeated look had left his face.

"In theory, yes. Of course, you would need to get Professor McGonagall's permission first and I don't know how easy that would be, even for you."

"But it's worth a go," Harry replied as he clambered off his bed and wrapped his friend in a warm hug. "Thanks, Hermione, you're a legend!"

Harry took a step back and smiled at the girls flushed face. "You better not tell Ron that I did that. He might get the wrong idea!!"

"You'd better not tell Pansy either then."

"What? Oh yeah right." Harry was momentarily thrown before realising that Hermione thought there was something between him and Pansy. In a split second, Harry decided not to correct her; it was easier to have his friends think that than it ever would be for them to know the truth.

"Why are you doing this, helping Draco? You hate him."

"I don't hate Malfoy. I don't like him particularly, but I've never hated him. As to why I'm helping, well, let's just say that I have revised my opinion of him recently and come to believe that he is not quite the evil git that everyone likes to think. Though I 'm sure you have already worked that out for yourself."

Harry smiled at this. "What changed your mind? In fact, I don't need to know. It's enough that you have. Do you think you could perhaps explain this to Ron and then maybe we could get back to how we used to be?"

"I think it will take a lot more to convince Ron, Harry. There are generations of family feuding between him and Malfoy, it won't be that easy." Then, seeing the look on Harry's face she added, "but I'll try."

"Thanks, for everything." Harry pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, "I have to go see McGonagall now, I'll let you know how I get on."

"Good luck Harry," Hermione murmured softly as the door closed behind him.Harry ran the entire way to the North Tower and had to pause at the bottom of the steps leading to McGonagall's office while he regained his breath.

He knocked firmly on the door and it was opened almost instantly.

"Mr Potter, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

The Headmistress held the door open and motioned Harry inside. He sank gratefully into one of the comfy chairs at her desk and quickly refused her kind offer of refreshments.

"Can I assume that this has something to do with this mornings... disturbance?"Harry looked up guiltily at this. "You know about that?"

"There isn't much that escapes my attention. I must say I was most surprised to hear about your behaviour."

"I'm not sorry," Harry stated defiantly.

"No, I don't suppose you are, but I cannot condone it either. Rest assured that Professor Sprout will be having a very serious conversation with Mr Hopkins about his behaviour. Now how can I help you?"

Thus prompted, Harry began to speak and the words just came tumbling out all at once.

"Hermione said that you have a fire link to the Minister's office in here. The Ministry won't let Draco's mum visit his dad, and she, Hermione that is, thought that maybe I could speak to Kingsley direct and he might be able to do something about it."

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows had risen steadily throughout this explanation."Let me get this straight Mr Potter. You want to use my fireplace to contact the Minister of Magic personally and ask him for clemency for the Malfoys?"

"Pretty much," Harry nodded, squirming uneasily in his chair.

"Well, as I live and breathe. I never thought to hear you pleading Mr Malfoy's case, you have certainly grown up Mr Potter, and into a fine young man too."

Harry flushed bright red at this compliment, but his Headmistress was still speaking.

"However, I am afraid that I cannot grant your request. That fire link is to only be used by the current Head teacher of Hogwarts and I simply cannot give you permission. It is guarded by a password and whatever previous Head-teachers may have done, I am not at liberty to disclose that to you."

Harry's heart sank at this; he had been so sure that this would work, that if he could just speak to Kingsley then he could make everything ok for Draco. Before he could argue his case further, Professor McGonagall was out of her seat.

"If you could just excuse me Mr Potter, I need to step out for a moment. I won't be long."

Harry watched as she left the office and then turned his gaze longingly to the fireplace. He was so close and yet without that bloody password, he couldn't do anything. McGonagall's words came back unbidden to him and caused Harry to think.

What was it she had said about the password? 'Whatever previous Head-teachers may have done.' Harry knew she had to be talking about Dumbledore, that he would have given Harry the information. But that was a pointless thought, Dumbledore was dead and this was hopeless.

Harry rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, sighing deeply. He was roused from his self pity by the sound of a small cough. Thinking that Professor McGonagall had returned he sat up straight and looked round. Seeing no one there and thinking that he was hearing things, Harry turned his head back to face front, staring unseeing at the desk in front of him.

Some slight movement caught Harry's attention and when he looked up to investigate, he found himself looking into a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

A short while later as he dropped down onto the mat in front of the fireplace, Harry cursed his own stupidity at not taking McGonagall's hint earlier. Of course she wouldn't have been able to give him permission to use the fire link, but she had all but told Harry to ask Dumbledore for the information and had then left the room to give him the opportunity to do it.

Dumbledore had readily provided the required password along with a few words of approval for Harry's actions. Harry felt a little uncomfortable talking with his old Headmaster. There were still too many lingering resentments on his part regarding how the old man had kept him in the dark over important matters.

Harry tried to push these thoughts from his mind as he cast 'incendio' into the grate and then stuck his head into the flames calling "Kingsley!"Harry made his way from the North Tower straight down to the dungeons. He had done his best and was hopeful that he had been successful. He had become friendly with the bald-headed Auror during the war with Voldemort, and Kingsley seemed refreshingly unchanged since he had become Minister.

He let himself into the Slytherin common room with the password that Draco made sure he always knew. Harry looked round the dimly lit room in vain for a sign of his boyfriend, but he did spot Blaise lounging by the fire.

"Where's Draco?" he demanded without preamble.

"He's in the dormitory, Pansy's in there with him." Blaise replied.

"How is he, Blaise, really?" Harry was nervous to hear the answer but needed to know all the same.

The Italian boy shrugged. "he's a Slytherin, who knows what's going on behind that mask of his."

Harry turned on his heel and headed quickly for the boys' dormitories. When he pushed open the door to Draco's room he found the blond curled up on his bed with Pansy sat at the side stroking his hair. At the sight of Harry, Pansy stopped what she was doing and stood up. Draco murmured in protest and opened his eyes, at the sight of Harry a small smile crossed his face.

"I'll leave you to it," Pansy said, heading for the door. As she passed Harry, she whispered, "take care of him."

"Always," Harry answered without having to think about it.

He made his way over to the bed and lay down next to his boyfriend. Draco crawled into Harry's arms and buried himself against his chest.

"I can't talk about it, Harry," he explained. "Could you just hold me?"

Harry's lips pressed against Draco's briefly and his arms tightened around the blond boy's lean frame. Harry lost track of how long they lay there like that, in silence. But eventually Draco's breathing slowed and Harry realised he had fallen asleep.

Looking at his boyfriend's vulnerable face, Harry was overwhelmed by the emotions that coursed through him. At that moment he knew without a doubt that he was in love with Draco, and that thought terrified him more than facing Voldemort ever had.


	30. A Debt Of Gratitude

**Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of self-harming. If you don't like this, please don't read. Don't say I didn't warn you !!**

* * *

Harry was concerned about Draco. Ever since his initial display of emotion over news of his father's illness he had become cold and withdrawn. Gone was the affectionate and demonstrative boyfriend that Harry had come to love, and in his place was an automaton who, although he still had Draco's features, reminded Harry a little too much of Lucius Malfoy for comfort.

Draco had allowed himself a few short hours to grieve over, what he believed to be, the imminent death of his father. As they had lain together on the Slytherin's bed, Harry had never felt closer to another human being than he did to the vulnerable blond wrapped in his arms.

But that had all ended abruptly when Harry woke up alone after their brief nap. He had been overcome with worry initially, searching frantically through almost the entirety of Slytherin house for any sign of his boyfriend.

He had been completely shocked when Pansy had informed him that the blond was in fact in the library studying. Harry had wondered initially if this was just an excuse that Draco had used to spend some time alone. After all, this was certainly something Harry could understand, it was a tactic he had employed himself on many occasions.

When a cursory glance at the Marauders Map revealed that Draco was indeed ensconced in the library, Harry's confusion only increased.

He found his boyfriend hidden behind a large pile of dusty books, apparently engrossed in his work. Harry slid silently into the chair opposite Draco and waited patiently to be acknowledged.

As seconds turned into minutes and Draco still hadn't looked up from his work, Harry reached over the table and covered the blond's hand with his own, effectively stilling the movement of quill over parchment.

Draco looked up, an expression of irritation evident on his face.

"What do you want, Harry? I'm a bit busy right now." He indicated the mountain of work with a flourish of his free hand.

The Gryffindor was momentarily stumped by this welcome but pressed on regardless.

"I woke up and you weren't there; I was worried about you."

"Yes, well as you can see for yourself, I'm fine."

Harry smiled almost indulgently at this blatant lie. Though Draco's expression masked his emotions perfectly, his hair was dishevelled, his collar was wonky and there was a smudge of what looked like dirt on one pale cheek. All of these things spoke volumes to Harry about his boyfriend's inner turmoil. Draco was never seen in public looking less than perfect.

"Draco," Harry began gently, his thumb stroking over the blond's knuckles.

Before he could continue, Draco had wrenched his hand back.

"Not here, Harry," he snapped. "People will see."

"Let them," Harry answered shortly, feeling his temper begin to rise in response to Draco's attitude.

Draco rubbed at his eyes and despite himself Harry couldn't help but think how adorable this made him look.

"What do you want from me, Harry? Why do you even care? You hate my father."

"I care about you," Harry snapped, stung by the accusation.

Draco let out a soft sigh and his features relaxed slightly.

"I'm sorry, that was unfair. Look can we do this later?" His tone was flat, betraying no emotion. But Harry didn't miss the faint plea in his eyes.

"Ok." Harry nodded, fighting to keep his tone neutral to avoid upsetting Draco further. He pushed his chair away from the table and looked at his boyfriend hopefully.

"Should I come down to the dungeons later?"

Draco scrubbed at his eyes again and there was, what seemed to Harry, a long pause before he answered.

"Probably best not tonight. I think I need to be on my own for a bit. You understand don't you?"

"Sure, I understand. I guess I'll see you at breakfast then?"

Draco nodded slowly, "Yes. And Harry, thanks for earlier. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I do appreciate it."

Harry fought to keep a smile on his face as he said his goodbyes and made his way out of the library. He did understand, really he did. But that didn't help the fact that he felt like someone had gripped hold of his heart tight and was trying to pull it out of his chest. Draco was pushing him away, just as Harry had come to realise what the blond meant to him and it hurt like hell.Harry tossed and turned in bed that night, sleep eluding him completely, his mind full of Draco and unable to process any other thoughts.

There had been no word from the Kingsley all day, though Harry had looked and looked for a glimpse of a Ministry owl. Harry just knew, as he curled up in to a small ball under his twisted sheets, that he had failed Draco.

The one thing he had been able to use his pathetic 'Saviour' status for and he had failed. Now Lucius Malfoy would die alone in Azkaban and the blond would never forgive Harry for failing him in such an important way.

Finally unable to remain still any longer, Harry kicked the covers of his tired body and clambered out of his bed. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a warm jumper, grabbing his invisibility cloak, the marauders map and a small package from his bedside drawer. He tucked his wand in his pocket for good measure and slipped quietly out of the dormitory.

He stared at the tiny dot labelled 'Draco Malfoy' that was currently showing in the Slytherin Common room. Draco was obviously still awake and Harry wanted nothing more than to be by the blond's side, comforting him, soothing him to sleep.

Without realising where he was heading, Harry found himself outside the entrance to Slytherin house. The password was on the tip of his tongue, all he had to do was say it and he could be in there, holding Draco.

But there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach, a feeling that Draco didn't want him there, didn't need him. After all, he had already failed him in the one thing he could do, what else did he have to offer to the blond.

He leant his aching head against the rough cold stone and trailed his fingertips down the wall, allowing himself to wallow in the feeling of misery that swept through him at being so close and yet so distant from Draco.

Harry turned away reluctantly, wandering aimlessly through the dungeons. He found himself outside the old Potions classroom where he and Draco had had their first kiss. Without thinking, he entered the room and cast a quick locking charm for privacy. He slid down the wall, tears forming in his eyes, a sickening coil of guilt twisting in his stomach.

As always happened when Harry was overwhelmed like this, memories of his other 'failures' came back to haunt him; Cedric's lifeless body, Sirius's face as he fell through the veil, Tonks' and Remus' body's laid out on the floor of the Great Hall.

How could anybody call him 'Saviour' when so many people had suffered because of him? Hot tears now spilled down his cheeks and his breathing became more erratic as he was completely lost to this pit of despair.

Harry knew there was only one way to make himself feel better now and he reluctantly fingered the small parcel in his pocket. His hand shaking, he withdrew the package from his jeans and unwrapped it slowly. The moonlight shining through the window glittered on the shard of broken glass that Harry now held in his hand.

Harry found it ironic that just the action of holding this...thing, made him feel instantly better. His breathing calmed down and the twisting sensation in his gut slackened.

With heartbreaking clinical detachment, Harry rolled back the sleeve of his jumper, laying bare the unmarked flesh of his left forearm. A whispered word and the Glamour was ended, the pale skin now littered with faint silver and pink scars.

Harry lovingly traced a fingertip over these reminders of his past failings, remembering the release that each one had offered him.

Unable to resist any longer, he pressed the sharp edge against his arm and dragged it across the skin, watching with satisfaction as the first drops of blood began to trickle out of the wound. He repositioned the shard further down his arm and pressed harder this time, slicing his flesh open.

It took four cuts this time before Harry was satisfied that it was enough. Small rivers of blood now ran down his arm, pooling on the floor at his side. The drips were almost hypnotic to Harry and he was unable to tear his gaze away.

He leant back against the wall; tears drying on his cheeks, his breathing now back to normal. He felt purged; there was no other word for it. He had paid enough...for tonight, anyway. Harry wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but the stiffness in his neck indicated it had been sometime. The sight of dried blood all down his arm made him feel instantly sick and he was forced to choke down the bile that rose in his throat.

In the cold light of morning the angry wounds never seemed as necessary or as satisfying. They only served to remind him of his weakness and compound his feelings of guilt.

Harry quickly tugged his sleeve down over his ill-treated limb and cast a cleaning charm on the dried blood that surrounded him. He jumped to his feet and instantly spotted the object that had caused all the damage.

He felt a sudden urge to stamp hard on it, to smash it beyond recognition, so it could do no further damage. But as quickly as he raised his foot to do so, a brief flash of panic shot through him; worry at how he would cope without this form of release. He lowered his foot slowly, bent down and gingerly wrapped his fingers round it, wrapping it carefully. Once it was tucked safely in his pocket, Harry felt calm again.

After a quick glance at the Marauders Map showed that the coast was clear, Harry unlocked the classroom and headed quickly out of the dungeons and back up to Gryffindor tower.

He was infinitely grateful that all his roommates were still asleep when he returned to his room. He headed into the bathroom, slowly removed his clothing and stepped gratefully into the warm water of the shower.

Once he felt thoroughly cleansed after the previous nights activities, Harry exited the shower, dried himself and then promptly recast the glamour charm on his arm, watching in fascination as the scar-littered skin quickly became smooth and blemish free. Not for the first time, Harry felt infinitely grateful to Hermione for the discovery of this particular spell.

Noting that there was still almost an hour before breakfast started, Harry pulled on his pyjamas and sank gratefully into his soft bed, feeling it cradle his aching limbs.By the time Monday morning came round, Harry was struggling to motivate himself to get out of bed. He hadn't seen Draco all weekend, not since their brief conversation in the library. When the blond hadn't shown up for any meals or made any effort to contact him, Harry was sure he could feel his heart breaking just a little.

It had taken all of his strength to remain in his bed the night before, to resist adding further scars to his new collection.

Harry lay in bed, unwilling or unable to get up, listening to the receding voices of his housemates as they made their way down to breakfast. He was nervous, worried about seeing Draco and scared what this weekend could mean for the two of them.

He heard the door open and instantly mumbled, "Alright, I'm getting up now."

Before he had chance to move, or even think about moving, the hangings on his bed were pulled back and a warm body flung itself on to him.

"Draco," Harry gasped. "How...why?"

"Two excellent questions, Harry, both of which I plan to answer right after I do this."

Draco then captured Harry's lips in a kiss so fierce and demanding that Harry was helpless to do anything other than submit totally. Draco's tongue plundered Harry's mouth, tasting every inch, while his hands raked over his body. The kiss ended almost as quickly as it began, leaving Harry breathless and a little confused.

"Thank you," the blond murmured against his lips.

Draco sat up and then straddled Harry's body, looking down at his raven-haired boyfriend with a contrite expression on his face.

"I've been an arse all weekend and I'm so sorry."

Harry reached a hand up to touch Draco's face, as if to reassure himself that the blond was actually there.

"It's okay, you had more important things to worry about."

Draco took hold of Harry's hand and held it so tightly that the Gryffindor almost winced at the grasp.

"No, Harry," he said emphatically. "Not more important than you, don't ever think that. I was a git and I don't deserve you."

Harry smiled sweetly at this, the worry that had plagued him for the last two days dissipating totally at these words.

"How about I forgive you then and you can tell me what brought about this change of heart and how the hell you came to be in Gryffindor tower?"

"Believe it or not the answer to both questions is Longbottom.""Neville?" Harry questioned, even more confused than ever now. "What's Neville got to do with it?"

A slight pink flush crept into Draco's cheeks as he spoke.

"He read me the riot act last night. Didn't know he had it in him to be honest. Told me I was being a selfish git and that I didn't deserve you...and he's right. Then just as he's leaving he gives me this piece of paper with your password on it and tells me if I don't use it he will be asking the Sorting Hat for Gryffindor's sword again."

Harry actually burst out laughing at the thought of Neville threatening Draco, a boy who had once terrified him.

"Blimey, I didn't think I'd ever see the day when you were running scared from Neville. But it must have worked, you seem a lot happier."

"Well, there is another reason for that." Draco leaned over the side of the bed and picked up a parchment he had dropped upon ambushing Harry. "I had a letter from Mother."

"And?" Harry questioned, almost too scared to hear the answer.

"I think I'll let her tell you herself." Then upon seeing Harry's confused expression, he thrust a parchment in his direction. "There's a letter for you as well."

Harry scrambled into an upright position and warily took the letter from Draco. "Your mum wrote me a letter?" he asked in incredulous tones. "But why?"

"Well, I don't know, Harry, I don't go reading other people's mail. Though I would suggest that opening it is a good way to find out."

Harry gave Draco a playful smack on the arm before turning back to his letter with worried eyes. Draco did not miss the fact that his hands shook slightly as he broke through the ornate Malfoy seal on the back.

Dear Mr Potter,

It would appear that I once again owe you a very great debt of gratitude.

My son advises me that the two of you have, of late, come to an understanding, friendship even. I can only assume that it was your concern for Draco that prompted such unprecedented actions on your part.

Regardless of your motivations, please allow me to express my heartfelt gratitude for the opportunity you have given me. I know not what I have done to deserve such kindness on your part but it is appreciatedfar more than mere words would ever allow me to express.

Not only have I been allowed to visit my husband but I also had my liberty returned to me. Which is something,I must confess, that I never thought to have again.

I will not ask forgiveness for past wrongs as neither myselfnor my husband deserves such consideration from you. However, I wish you to know that I heartily regret the wrongs that I have done you over the years.

You have grown into a fine young man, one any parent would be proud of and I could not be happier that my son now counts you among his friends.

With deepest gratitude,

Narcissa Malfoy.

Harry doubted if his eyes could get any wider as they had while he read this letter. When he finally lowered the parchment it was to find Draco smiling at him softly. Harry opened his mouth to speak but found himself unable to form words as his brain would not allow him to process them fully.

Narcissa Malfoy had written to him, and such a letter too. He looked at Draco, a question on the tip of his tongue, but not quite wanting to spoil the moment by asking it. The blond, sensing this, simply nodded and smiled. "My father is going to be okay. He's still quite ill, but he will not die."

Harry quickly wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and pulled him into a warm hug. "I'm really pleased for you, Draco, honestly I am."

"I know you are. I didn't really mean what I said the other day. I was just lashing out."

Draco pulled back from the embrace as quickly as Harry had enfolded him in it. He thrust a second parchment at Harry.

"You should read this; it's my mother's letter to me."

Harry shook his head stubbornly, "I can't read that, it's private."

"Just read it, Harry, please."

Looking down at the now familiar script of Narcissa Malfoy, Harry began, once again, to read.

My Darling Draco,

I hope this letter finds you in betterspirits than I fear my last one did.

Let me first put your mind at ease. I have seen your father and all is well. He is still very poorly and weak, but I am assured by the Healers that he will live for many years yet.

I managed to have a few brief wordsalone with him and he sends you his love.

You may be puzzled as to how this abrupt change came to pass so soon after my last letter. I must admit to having been somewhat confusedmyself by the speed with whichit all happened.

I had almost resigned myself to never seeing your father again, when I received an owl from the Ministry – from the Minister himself, if you please. Not only was I at liberty to visit your father, but the investigation is over and I am a free woman once again. I cannot begin to express to you how wonderful that feels.Reading between the lines of this missive,I suspect that the Malfoys are once againindebted to your Mr Potter as this bearsall the hallmarks of a rash Gryffindorintervention.

Do not get upset by my terming him so, as I truly believe after this that he is just that, yours. I realise that you have never gone into details regarding your relationship with Mr Potter. But I am a mother, Draco, your mother, and I know you as well as I know myself.

I must admit to having wondered over the years regarding the two of you, such was the passionate nature of your every interaction.

Anyway, I will say no more on the subject(as I am sure you will tell me when you are ready) save to say how lucky you are to have someone who obviously cares so much for your wellbeing.

Please pass on the enclosed letter to our young benefactor so that I may properly present my thanks.

Your loving mother.

As Harry lowered the parchment he realised that he had been wrong, it was possible for his eyes to grow wider. So much so, that he actually thought they were in danger of falling out. He flopped back on the bed in shock.

"Draco," he began in a quavering voice. "Your mother...she knows."

"Yes, I rather think she does. She always was a very perceptive woman where I was concerned, never could hide anything from her."

Draco let out a chuckle as Harry groaned loudly and clamped a hand to his forehead.

"I'm doomed," he muttered melodramatically.

"Don't be such a wuss, Potter. Now get your arse out of this bed so I can get out of this rather hideous room." Draco looked round distastefully. "Doesn't all this red and gold give you headaches?"

"Nope, that would be you," Harry teased before he wisely leapt out of bed and headed for the safety of a locked bathroom door.

"I'll let that remark pass this time, Potter, seeing as how you just swooped to my families rescue. But anymore remarks like that and you will be in so much trouble you'll be praying for detention with Filch.

A muffled snigger from behind the closed door had Draco rolling his eyes, before he sat down on the bed to wait for his boyfriend, a warm smile stretched over his face.


	31. Clueless

When Harry woke on Tuesday morning he was amazed to find himself feeling well rested and relaxed. He slid his hand under his pillow and felt his fingers brush against the parchment of Narcissa Malfoy's letter.

He had lost count of the number of times he had read it since Draco had given it to him the morning before. It wasn't so much the words she had used, but rather what it symbolised that left Harry feeling hopeful.

Ever since he had got together with Draco, Harry had resisted thinking about their future. This was something that came easy to him, borne of years spent thinking he would die at Voldemort's hand before he reached adulthood.

Cocooned in the relative isolation of Hogwarts it was easy to forget the rest of the world existed. But deep down Harry knew that it did, and that it was a world that would be less than accepting of his relationship with Draco. And not because it was with another boy, because it was with a Malfoy.

If his best friend could turn his back on him simply for befriending Draco, Harry shuddered to think how everyone would respond to the news that they were dating.

It was really no one's business but theirs, but Harry knew from bitter experience that everything about their 'Saviour' was considered public property by most of the wizarding public.

The greatest fear for Harry had been Draco's family. He was under no illusions that over the years the Malfoys had been up to their aristocratic necks in Voldemort's plots, some of which included planning to kill him. And while Narcissa didn't bear the Dark Mark, she had certainly aided them in her way. Harry had to struggle valiantly not to think about her involvement in Sirius's death.

But whatever his personal feelings were, these were Draco's parents and it was obvious that his boyfriend loved them both deeply. If Harry wanted to have any kind of a future with Draco he knew he had to reconcile himself, on some level, with the older Malfoys.

Lucius was going to be difficult. Memories of the Little Hangleton graveyard and the Department of Mysteries were going to be hard to overcome. But Lucius still had many years left to serve in Azkaban and Harry could only hope that in this time they would learn to tolerate each other for Draco's sake.

Narcissa, however, was a different matter. She was a constant presence in Draco's life and something of a puzzle to Harry. She had knowingly lied to Voldemort, betrayed her 'Master', which in no small part had contributed to his eventual defeat.

Harry didn't kid himself that she had risked her life to save him. But regardless of intention, this was what she had done. Had it not been for her intervention, Harry knew he would never have left the Forbidden Forest alive that night. So whatever her motivation, Harry found himself eternally grateful to her.

It had been this that prompted Harry to prevent the Aurors from taking her straight to Azkaban, alongside Lucius, following the final battle. It was also the reason he had made a statement to the Wizengamot in her defence. Of course, his recent intervention had more to do with his feelings for Draco than for consideration of Narcissa.

But as Harry read his letter for the umpteenth time he couldn't help the small smile that lit his face. This letter was proof to him that he and Draco could have a future together, that his mother at least wouldn't stand in their way. In fact, if her letter to Draco was anything to go by, she almost seemed to be encouraging them.

Folding the parchment back up, Harry tucked it back under his pillow, where he kept it almost like a talisman.

Eventually Harry managed to coax his body from the warmth of his bed and readied himself for the day. Neville waited at the door for him and they made their way together down into the common room. Halfway down he was struck by the sudden urge to turn tail and hide under his duvet, Ginny was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with a very determined look on her face.

"Harry, I thought you were never coming down. I've been waiting for ages to speak to you." She finished up with a pointed look at Neville, clearly indicating that his presence was not required.

"I'll see you down there, Harry." Neville gave him a sympathetic look before heading towards the portrait hole, ignoring Harry's pleading expression.

A soft sight escaped Harry's lips before he could stop himself and he turned to face the smiling redhead.

"Ginny, what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to speak to you about the Halloween dance. I thought that since we've been getting on so well lately that we could go together, just as friends obviously."

Harry was stumped momentarily, unsure of how to answer without it resulting in another row.

"Don't you think it's a good idea, Harry?" She asked in a tone that showed she expected nothing more that his ready acceptance of her suggestion.

'No' was the simple answer but Harry had had enough experience of Ginny's temper to know that this was not the best one. He felt the familiar stirrings of a headache and he rubbed distractedly at his forehead.

"I'm not so sure Gin; I wasn't really planning to go. You know me, two left feet and all."

Ginny looked at him with a puzzled expression for a moment, "So you're saying no?" she asked incredulously.

"Um, yes, I guess so." Harry couldn't quite make eye contact with her and dragged the toe of his shoe nervously across the floor.

"Fine. It's your loss, Harry Potter." Ginny span round on her heel, a curtain of red hair swinging behind her and headed in the direction of the girls' dormitories.

"Well, that went well," Harry muttered to himself before heaving a sigh of relief and making his way over to the portrait hole.

Neville was waiting for him on the other side, a sympathetic grin on his face.

"That was quick. I was expecting some shouting at least!"

Harry shot his friend a wry grin. "Sorry to disappoint."

"So what did she want?" Neville asked, unable to stifle his curiosity.

"Believe it or not, she actually asked me to go to the Halloween dance with her."Neville chuckled. "Bet that was awkward. How did you get out of that one?"

"I just told her I wasn't going."

"Do you think that was wise, Harry? I mean, she's going to know that's not true when you turn up on the night." There was just a hint of concern in Neville's voice.

Harry turned to look at his friend in confusion. "Why would you think I'd go?"

"Aren't you then?" questioned Neville, sounding surprised.

"No, I wasn't planning to. It's not like Draco and I can go together, so I just figured we would make the most of some privacy while everyone else is at the dance. Are you going then, Neville?"

Neville nodded, "Yeah, I'm taking Susan Bones."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise at this piece of information. "How did that happen?"

"Well, she's a nice girl and we work together a lot in Herbology so I just asked her. That's generally how these things happen, Harry."

"Ha-ha," Harry returned, giving Neville a slight shove. "You know that wasn't what I meant. Doesn't Blaise mind that you're taking her?"

Neville returned Harry's shove with interest, "He can hardly object when he's taking Millicent Bulstrode."Harry almost choked at this. "That's new! What happened there?"

"I'm not really sure," Neville admitted slowly. "It's some weird Slytherin thing. Apparently they always go to these things with other house members. I guess until you and me, they didn't really do much mixing with the other houses. Anyway it's like you said, it's not like he and I can go together."

Harry nodded thoughtfully at this, but as they had reached the doors to the Great Hall the conversation died. They made their way over to the Gryffindor table and Harry was relieved that for once he could sit down without worrying where Ginny was.

He slid into his seat and found himself sitting next to Hermione. She gave him a quick smile which Harry returned without reservation. Whilst things with Ron were still a little tense, Harry had found that he was managing to rebuild his friendship with the frizzy-haired witch.

Ever since she had helped him out with contacting Kingsley about Narcissa, all of Harry's previous irritation with his onetime friend had vanished.

"Did you see Ginny, Harry? She was looking for you earlier."

Harry's mouth was full of bacon so he simply nodded in return, a slight grimace on his face.

Hermione nodded knowingly, "I tried to tell her it wasn't a good idea. But you know what she's like."

Swallowing too quickly, Harry found himself choking and Neville was forced to slap him on the back.

"Thanks, mate," he said with a grateful smile in the fair-haired boy's direction. Then he turned back to Hermione.

"It was OK; she seemed fine with it...I think."

Hermione gave him a disbelieving snort and quickly rolled her eyes. "Boys, you're all so clueless," she muttered as she turned her attention back to her plate.Harry spent most of that day in a quiet, introspective mood. Pansy tried repeatedly, throughout double Charms, to pull him out of his reverie. But not even her lively chatter could coax more than monosyllabic responses from him. Eventually she was forced to admit defeat and turn her attention back to where it should have been all along, Professor Flitwick.

Potions class was no better. Although Professor Slughorn had them working under exam conditions in preparation for their N.E.W.T.s, so Harry's brooding was not so obvious. Even so, Draco shot one or two questioning glances at Pansy, only to receive helpless shrug in return.

Anytime any of them would ask Harry what was wrong, he would simply reply 'nothing' or 'I'm thinking' and refused to be drawn further on the subject.

Draco was slightly relieved to see that Neville got much the same silent treatment throughout most of Herbology. He figured that at least this meant that Harry wasn't mad at him for something. But this still left him concerned as to what was troubling his boyfriend.

Finally unable to take the suspense any longer, Draco, aided by Pansy, ambushed Harry after dinner. They led him, almost forcibly, down to their common room, determined on having some answers.

Draco settled himself in his usual fireside chair and pulled a protesting Harry down into his lap. The Slytherin's were no longer fazed by the sight of the 'Boy Who Lived' cuddling up to their leader. It was such a daily occurrence that none of them even batted an eyelid now.

Harry, however, although he enjoyed the snuggling, was still not as relaxed about such public displays of affection.

He wriggled on Draco's knee. "Draco, there's plenty of chairs free for me to sit in."

"Yes, but I want you on my lap," the blond replied in a voice that told Harry arguing was futile.

To further illustrate his point, Draco snaked a hand round Harry's waist and slid it under the front of his shirt. The feel of his boyfriends fingers caressing the warm skin of his stomach, effectively killed off any further protest that Harry had planned on making.

He relaxed against Draco's body, willing himself to ignore the grins that he knew Blaise and Pansy were shooting in his direction.

"So, are you planning to tell me what's been bothering you all day?" Draco's lips brushed against Harry's ear as he spoke and sent a tiny shiver through the Gryffindor's body.

There was a pause, then Harry tilted his head so he could meet Draco's steady gaze.

"Ginny asked me to go to the Halloween dance with her," he answered, trying to keep his voice as matter of fact as possible.

The arm round his waist tightened noticeably and Draco's eyes narrowed.

"I hope you told the She-weasel where to get off?" he all but growled.

Harry smiled at Draco's obvious possessiveness for a moment, then realised that his boyfriend was still waiting for an answer.

"I just told her that I wasn't planning to go."

"Harry," Draco began, in a voice one would use when explaining something to a small child. "Was that wise? Don't you think she's going to notice when you turn up?"

"That's what Neville said," Harry answered shortly, bristling slightly at Draco's tone. "But I'm really not planning to go so I don't see what the problem is."

"Why not? I mean, why aren't you going?"

Harry looked curiously at Draco's expression, trying to gauge the reason for his sharp reply.

"Are you suggesting that we go together?" A tiny part of Harry was hoping that Draco would say yes and they could just go public and everyone else be damned. But he was realistic enough to know this was not a good idea.

"I don't think Hogwarts is quite ready for the sight of us two waltzing round the Great Hall, do you?" Draco chuckled softly as he finished speaking and there were accompanying giggles from Pansy and Blaise.

"No, we need to have our own dates," Draco continued. "We've already talked about this, Harry. That's why I'm taking Daphne."

"I think I would have remembered that conversation," Harry answered stiffly and made to get up from Draco's lap. He was pulled back down unceremoniously.

"Hey, don't be like that, Harry. I really thought I had told you about this. I guess I just forget with all the concern over father."

This made Harry shift guiltily. "Maybe I should just go with Ginny then," he said quietly.

"Not while there's still breath in my body you won't!" Draco answered forcefully.

"So who am I supposed to take then? It's a bit short notice to find a date now." Harry pouted and Draco was reminded all over again of just how much he loved his boyfriend.

Before the blond had time to reply, Pansy plopped down into Harry's lap, grinning wildly. "I believe that's where I come in," she smirked.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the girl, despite the deadening sensation she was causing in his legs.

"Pansy, you great lump, get off now!" Draco scowled at her from the bottom of the pile.

"Hush, Draco," she scolded lightly. "Harry and I have important things to discuss. Like what he is going to wear when he escorts me to the dance."

"It's supposed to be a Muggle themed isn't it?" Harry mused.

"Yes, it's some half-baked idea of McGonagall's. I swear she gets more like Dumbledore every day," Draco scoffed.

"Draco, stop complaining. I'm looking forward to it. Robes aren't exactly flattering to the female form you know. I have this lovely dress picked out, it's ...Well, actually I won't tell you, it will ruin the surprise." She wound up with a cheeky wink at Harry.

"Now, Harry," she continued. "You were raised by Muggles weren't you?" Without giving him a chance to answer, Pansy ploughed on. "So you must know what the right thing to wear is?"

Draco snorted at this, "You do remember Harry's old wardrobe don't you, Pansy?" He got a sharp elbow to his ribs at this.

"I suppose it would be a suit," Harry answered, choosing to ignore Draco's teasing. "But I don't have one; I've never really had any need."

Pansy frowned at this.

"Relax. I've already spoken to mother about it and she is sending outfits for both Harry and I to wear."

Pansy smiled warmly at her friend. "Draco, you're a star. For that, I'll even get off you!"

Good to her word she hopped off Harry's lap and both boys heaved exaggerated sighs of relief, receiving a glare from the Slytherin girl in return.

"The only problem we have now is that Harry can't dance," Pansy said, looking at the Gryffindor accusingly.

"How do you know I can't dance?" he asked indignantly.

"Two words...Yule Ball," Pansy replied as if this should tell Harry everything he needed to know. And in truth it did. It was memories of that particular Ball that had prompted Harry's original decision not to attend this dance. His palms still got slightly sweaty just thinking about all that awkward shuffling around the dance floor.

"Not a problem," Draco said dismissively. "Pansy and I both took dancing lessons when we were younger, we can teach you, Harry."

"Oh, it seems you both have everything worked out then. I don't have any excuses left," Harry said resignedly.

"Exactly, all you have to do is turn up and look pretty!""Stop calling me that," Harry retorted with a sharp dig at his boyfriend. "You make me sound like I'm a girl. I'm not the one who took dance lessons."

Harry found himself unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. "That piece of information doesn't leave this room, Potter."

Harry met Pansy's gaze, his eyes twinkling mischievously. They both turned to look at the outraged expression on Draco's face and promptly dissolved into a fit of giggles.


	32. Very Distracting

As the date of the Halloween dance grew nearer, Harry found himself becoming increasingly agitated. There were two main reasons for his disquiet and he couldn't see a way out of either situation.

Firstly, and probably most importantly, Harry was painfully aware that he needed to speak to Ginny before the dance. When Harry had told Hermione that he was now going and that he was taking Pansy, she had looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before speaking.

"You need to tell Ginny," was all she said, but it was enough to make Harry's heart sink. The last thing he wanted was another confrontation with the volatile redhead, and he just knew that's what would happen. Ginny hadn't reacted too badly when he had turned down her invitation, but Harry was under no illusions that she would not be so calm this time.

Harry wasn't sure what would bother her most. That he was taking another girl, or that he was taking Pansy. Harry rather suspected it would be the latter, especially when he remembered the confrontation he had interrupted on the Hogwarts Express.

Harry had been steadfastly avoiding the redhead ever since.

This kept Harry firmly on his toes as he was also doing his utmost to avoid Pansy and Draco. The Slytherin pair was constantly trying to pin Harry down about the promised dance lessons but the dark-haired Gryffindor was having none of it.

Harry thought it was somewhat ironic that the thought of something as innocuous as dancing could wake him up in much the same cold sweat as the thought of facing Voldemort had. He knew he was being irrational but he couldn't quite escape the humiliating memories of the Yule Ball.

With the first Quidditch match of the season against Slytherin approaching, Harry found practice to be a helpful excuse. Although, this did somewhat clash with his aim of avoiding Ginny. The Gryffindor team had never practised so hard and so often. Ron was even heard to wonder if Harry was somehow channelling the spirit of Oliver Wood.

If he wasn't occupied with Quidditch practice, Harry could usually be found hiding in the library. After a week or so of this tactic, it began to have two distinct advantages, though these were somewhat negated by having a sulky boyfriend.

The first was that his school marks were improving dramatically, and while he never actually knocked Hermione off the top spot, he was certainly up there challenging for it.

The second advantage was that he seemed to finally be getting back on good terms with Hermione. They spent several evenings sharing a table in the library, swapping notes and tips on their respective areas of expertise. And while Harry suspected that things between them would never go back to what they once were, he felt infinitely happier about the state of their friendship.

Hermione seemed not only to accept his friendship with the Slytherin's, but to actually be curious about it. So when they weren't discussing school work, Harry found himself under intense questioning about Draco, Pansy and Slytherins in general.

He answered the questions for the most part, recognising Hermione's curiosity for what it was. But after a while it became relentless and Harry refused to share more, advising the girl to find out for herself.

Harry didn't think for one minute she would act on his offhand suggestion, but then he saw the thoughtful look on her face and wondered if the bookish girl was going to surprise him yet again.

By the Thursday before Halloween, Harry could feel that time was running out.

All through lessons that day, Pansy had been shooting him meaningful glares and dropping the occasional threat of bodily harm into the conversation, should he prove to be uncooperative.

As he left the Great Hall after dinner that night he found the unholy trio of Pansy, Draco and Blaise waiting for him, with a guilty looking Neville hovering just behind them. Realising there was no escape, Harry held up his hands in capitulation and allowed them to lead him in the direction of the dungeons.

As they entered the Slytherin common room, Harry headed to the chairs by the fire place and flopped into one with a huff. He looked up and glared balefully at the group surrounding him. Draco headed over and perched on the arm of his chair, his fingers casually threading through Harry's wild locks.

"Come on, Harry," he coaxed. "It will be relatively painless, I promise."

"But I don't want to, Dray." Harry whined and peeked up at the blond through thick lashes, a pout on his lips that he knew Draco couldn't resist. He let his head rest against his boyfriend's body and sighed deeply.

Feeling his resolve crumble in the face of his adorable boyfriend who was kittening up to him shamelessly, Draco turned to Pansy.

"Maybe it's not really necessary, Pans? He's not that bad really."

Harry nuzzled his face into Draco's torso in an effort to hide the smirk on his face, but it was short lived however, as Pansy stalked towards them.

"Draco Malfoy," she shrilled. "Don't you dare! This was your idea for us all to go to this damn dance. People will be staring at us enough as it is, without the added humiliation of having a partner who makes a troll look elegant."

"Hey," Harry protested.

Pansy turned to him, eyes flashing dangerously. "You're doing this, Harry. I'm not Draco and those puppy dog eyes don't work on me."

Harry scowled and turned away from her. "I don't see why I'm the only one who has to do this," he muttered, looking round the group. "How come no one's making Neville take stupid lessons too?" Harry shot a glare in the smiling Gryffindor's direction.

"Sorry, Harry. But I already know how. Gran made me take lessons when I was younger."

Harry's scowl deepened and he jerked his head away from Draco's touch. "Stupid pureblood traditions," he snapped as Pansy grabbed hold of his hand.

He allowed the girl to pull him from his chair, casting one final pleading look at his boyfriend. Draco shook his head and smiled softly.

"Sorry, Harry. You're on your own now. I know better than to incur Pansy's wrath. I'd just go quietly if I was you."

Pansy led a mutinous Harry to an old unused classroom in the heart of the dungeons. She pushed him side then followed herself, casting a locking charm behind them.

"Cheer up, Harry. It's only dancing. It's not like I'm planning to use you as a ritual sacrifice!"

Harry forced his facial muscles into a tight smile but the wary look never quite left his eyes. Deciding to ignore his reluctance, Pansy crossed the room and then pulled a small device from her bag that had Harry's eyes wide in surprise – a Muggle cd player. Pansy took in the expression on Harry's face and smirked.

"Just because purebloods don't like Muggles, doesn't mean I don't think that they have some useful inventions. I'm not the only one either; you should see Draco's collection of Muggle cd's." Pansy grinned to herself before adding reflectively. "One look at that and anyone would know he was gay."

Harry grinned despite himself and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Lots of Cher," Pansy explained. "Don't tell him I said though. He get's quite defensive about it."

She then fished a shiny cd from her robe pocket, slipped it into the player and pressed play. The strains of a lilting waltz filled the room and, in a response that would have put Pavlov's dog to shame, Harry's palms instantly became clammy.

Pansy walked towards him, a smirk fixed on her face and Harry resisted the urge to turn and flee.

"Put your right hand on my shoulder and your left one round my waist," Pansy instructed without preamble.

Harry's hand hovered over Pansy's waist, his fingertips barely brushing against her.

"Just put your arm round my waist, Harry," she directed impatiently. "I'm not going to jump you, I promise."

Harry nervously wiped his palm onto his trousers and then gingerly placed it on Pansy waist.

"That's better. See, I don't bite. Now just follow my footsteps."

An instruction that sounded simply enough but proved to be infinitely more difficult.

Half an hour later found an increasingly frustrated Pansy struggling to maintain her calm as Harry stumbled and faltered his way through a relatively simple waltz.

"You have no sense of rhythm," she accused. "Just listen to the music, Harry, and follow the beat. It's really not that hard."

Harry bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue, gritted his teeth and stared at a point over Pansy's shoulder, trying his hardest to concentrate. Sensing his acquiescence, Pansy put her hands back in position on Harry's body. As she began to move again, she found that Harry remained stationary and she almost tripped over her own feet.

"Bloody hell, Harry. What are you...?" She trailed off her as the sound of mocking clapping filled the room. She turned her head and caught sight of what had distracted Harry.

In the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, grinning ear to ear, was Draco.

"Ignore him," Pansy instructed as she turned back to Harry. The dark-haired boy felt a hot flush creep up his neck and suffuse his face with colour. He shot an embarrassed look at the blond and quickly stepped away from Pansy.

"I thought you locked that door," he muttered darkly.

"I did," Pansy retorted, sending a particularly vicious glare in her friend's direction.

Unfazed by his welcome, or lack thereof, Draco merely grinned at the pair and spoke in his lazy drawl.

"Please, Pansy, a child could get through your wards without even trying. Call yourself a Slytherin? Remind me to teach you some actually effective ones at some stage."

"How long have you been watching?" Pansy asked, suspiciously.

"Long enough to know that you need my help," Draco smirked.

"Well, if you're staying..." Harry made a noise of protest here that Pansy chose to ignore. "Then make yourself useful." Pansy paused here and thought for a moment, before adding: "And keep your mouth shut.

Pansy finished up with a look that spoke volumes about the consequences if he didn't. She then turned to Harry. "You need all the help you can get, now stop moaning."

Harry nervously placed his hands on Pansy again, keenly aware of the grey eyes that were watching him intently. Draco pushed himself off from the wall and walked casually over to where they stood. He walked around them, casting a critical eye over their bodies.

"Your posture is all wrong, Harry." He placed his hand in the small of Harry's back. "Stand up straight and place your hands here, like this."

Still not satisfied with Harry's positioning, Draco stood behind his boyfriend, his chest pressed flush to Harry's back, his arms parallel to the Gryffindor's.

"Draco," Harry gulped nervously. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just going to guide you through the steps, Harry. Just relax."

With a flick of her wand, Pansy started the music again. Draco led Harry, and by default, Pansy around the dance floor. The feel of his boyfriend's body in such close proximity severely affected Harry's ability to concentrate on his dance steps and it wasn't many minutes before Pansy was shrieking in pain and hopping on one foot.

"Owww! Merlin, Harry. Watch what you're doing, you almost broke my foot that time."

Sorry, Pansy," Harry offered sheepishly to the wincing girl in his arms. He craned his neck round to look at Draco.

"It's hard to concentrate with you pressed up against me like that. It's very distracting."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," Draco sniffed. "I'm just trying to guide you."

"Yes, well be that as it may, if you don't stop it soon, Pansy here will be going to the dance on crutches."

Before the blond could argue further, Pansy decided to intervene. "Draco, go and sit down. You hovering around like that is just making us both nervous."

Draco scowled at his friend, but reluctantly peeled his body away from his boyfriend. Harry immediately felt the loss of Draco's body heat but despite that he found he was much more able to focus on the task at hand.

By 10 o'clock that evening, a very flustered Harry Potter had finally managed to grasp the basic concept of the waltz well enough to satisfy his two Slytherin tutors.

Draco leant against the wall and watched critically as Harry guided Pansy through the dying steps of the dance. Harry finally came to a stop and turned to look at his boyfriend hopefully.

"You'll do I suppose," he admitted grudgingly. Draco then turned to face Pansy who was now flush with exertion. "I think we've done as much as we can Pansy. He might just not show you up!"

Draco then turned his attention to his now offended boyfriend and ignored the look of outrage on his face. "How you can be so graceful in the air and yet such a klutz on the ground, I'll never know."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Harry muttered as he gathered up his belongings. "Besides," he said over his shoulder as he made for the door. "It's not like I'm going to be dancing that much anyway."

There was an outraged splutter from Pansy's direction and Draco reached out to ruffle Harry's hair affectionately.

"It's a good job you're gay, Harry, because you're totally clueless when it comes to women."

Harry could only breathe a sigh of relief that the ordeal was finally over. Who knew that dancing was so traumatic? Now if only he could find the courage to talk to Ginny...


	33. Chasing Queens

Harry shrugged into the jacket of his suit and gave himself a quick once over in the mirror. Even to someone with as little knowledge of clothes as himself, it was obvious that Narcissa had done a very good job of selecting his outfit. It was almost as if it had been made for him.

It was a simple black, single-breasted suit, but the cut and the fabric screamed tastefully expensive, even to Harry. He had on also a crisp white shirt and a black silk tie (which had taken many frustrating minutes of struggling to put on correctly.) The only missing element was a pair of cufflinks, which Harry had never owned, nor had any need to previously. However, he figured that it was a safe bet that Draco would have some he could borrow.

He headed out of the bathroom, back into his dormitory and found himself pinned by the appraising looks of his roommates.

"You look nice, Harry," Neville offered.

Seamus nodded emphatically. "What he said. Only scratch 'nice' and use hot instead!"

Dean gave the Irish boy a friendly dig, and then turned to Harry. "Nice threads, mate."

Harry grinned at them in return. "Thanks. I'll see you guys down there."

There were quite a few people milling about in the common room when Harry got down there. Sulking members of the lower years, who were not old enough to attend the dance, were grouped together on the sofas, shooting resentful glares at anyone within range.

There were also quite a few boys stood near the foot of the entrance to the girls' dormitories, obviously waiting for their dates to appear. Harry grinned to himself at some of the young wizards' interpretation of 'Muggle wear' and found himself thanking Narcissa Malfoy heartily.

As Harry turned to exit the room, he found his route blocked by a grinning Dennis Creevey.

"Hi, Harry," he greeted breathlessly."Hi, Dennis," Harry answered, resigned to his fate.

Dennis began chattering away but Harry really wasn't paying that much attention. There was too great a similarity between Dennis and Colin for Harry to ever be able to look at him without remembering his dead older brother.

It suddenly occurred to Harry that the other boy was looking at him, smiling, as if waiting for an answer to a question. He shook his head free of his memories and turned his attention to the present.

"Sorry, Dennis, I lost myself for a moment there. What were you saying?"

"That's OK, Harry. I was just asking if you were looking forward to the dance. I'm a bit nervous myself."

That was when Harry realised that Dennis was in fact wearing a shirt and tie and appeared to think he was attending the Halloween ball, which was a little confusing as only sixth years and above were allowed to attend.

"Um, I guess so, Dennis, should be fun. But how come you're going? I didn't think you were old enough?"

Before Dennis could answer, it was done for him.

"He's my date."

And all of a sudden there was Ginny Weasley standing in front of him with a cool expression on her face, and Harry was all too aware of the fact he had never had that conversation with her about him taking Pansy to the dance

Ginny stood to the side of Dennis and placed her hand lightly on his shoulder.

"You're going then," she accused, without a hint of question in her voice.

Harry nodded sheepishly. "I got talked into it," he explained, not for one moment expecting this to be sufficient.

"Hmm," was all Ginny said, and yet she managed to pack so much meaning into that one noise.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments which didn't seem to affect Dennis, who was busily engaged with shooting adoring looks at both Ginny and Harry in turn. Finally, Harry mustered the courage to break the deadlock.

"You look nice, Gin." And it was the truth, Harry reflected, she did look very nice. Her curtain of auburn hair swung loose over her shoulders, which were bare. She had on a pale-gold strapless dress that looked almost like silk, though Harry could hear a little voice at the back of his mind that he recognised as Draco's, scoffing at the thought of a Weasley in anything so fine. The dress fell in tiers to just below her knees and the outfit was completed with a black sash around her narrow waist.

Ginny gave him a smug smile, as if to say 'yes, and look at what you're missing out on.' Not that Harry felt, on any level, that he was missing out. Ginny might look very pretty all done up like this, but there was no comparison to Draco.

"Thank you, Harry. You don't look so bad yourself." The stiff tone in which they were spoken belied the pleasantness of the words and Harry was not so naive as to think he had gotten away with anything.

"Come on, Dennis," Ginny practically ordered, before taking the younger Gryffindor's hand and pulling him in the direction of the portrait hole. As he clambered out of the common room, Ginny paused for a moment and turned back to Harry.

"You know, Harry. If you didn't want to take me to the dance, you could have just said. You didn't have to lie to me."

Harry barely had time to register her words, let alone refute them, before the girl had spun on her heel and flounced out of the portrait hole, allowing it to slam behind her.

"That went well then."

Soft as the voice was, Harry still jumped in surprise and turned to find Hermione smiling at him. Harry grinned wryly in return.

"As well as can be expected under the circumstances, I suppose. How come she's going with Dennis? Not that it's any of my business who she goes with; it's just a little odd is all."

Hermione shook her head lightly and her shower of ringlets danced with the movement. "I don't know, Harry. They seem to be spending a lot of time together lately. But you're right; it is a little odd, given the age difference." The girl paused here and looked speculatively at Harry before continuing. "I did wonder if maybe it was part of some plan to make you jealous."

Harry squirmed a little, uncomfortable with this thought. "I hope not," he said, keeping his voice neutral. "She really is wasting her time if that's the plan."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but whatever she had planned to say was forgotten as Ron appeared at her side and slung his arm proprietarily around her waist.

"Harry," he acknowledged gruffly, giving a brief nod in his friend's direction. The redhead then turned his attention to his girlfriend.

"You look amazing," he gaped. Hermione flushed and opened her mouth to refute the compliment, but Harry spoke first.

"Ron's right, Hermione, you really do look amazing." Hermione flushed even more at Harry's compliment but made no further effort to dispute it.

Harry looked at Hermione and realised for probably the first time that the girl he had grown up with, whom he loved like a sister, had become a woman. Her usually frizzy hair now hung in tamed ringlets that framed her lightly made up face. Like Ginny, she was wearing a strapless dress that showed off her feminine shoulders.

Harry knew even less about womens' clothing than he did about mens' but he decided that Hermione's dress was lovely. It was a mink colour and in what looked like satin, but it had an organza overlay that was embroidered with daisies and a matching sash around the waist.

Harry was dragged from his musing by the sound of his name being spoken. He looked up and found Hermione looking at him expectantly.

"Sorry, Hermione, what did you say?"

"I just said that we were on our way down to the Great Hall now and did you want to walk down with us. I presume you have to meet Pansy?"

Harry didn't miss the faint scowl that crossed Ron's face, as it did when anything Slytherin was mentioned. But he chose to ignore it and nodded his agreement to Hermione instead.

"Okay, that sounds like a good idea. I had better get a move on anyway. There were definite threats of hexing made for if I was late."

Hermione chuckled at this and even Ron managed a smile. Harry found himself overwhelmed with a feeling of longing for the way things used to be between the three of them and vowed to make more of an effort to rebuild their shattered friendship.Harry made it to the Slytherin common room with moments to spare. He muttered the password and waited while the door appeared and allowed him entrance. The scene in the dungeons was much the same as it was in Gryffindor tower, although the younger Slytherins obviously knew better than to show their disgruntlement.

Harry had barely stepped inside the room when a hand grabbed his wrist firmly and dragged him in the direction of the boys' dormitories. Draco slammed the door to his room behind them and turned to Harry with a predatory look on his face. His eyes raked over Harry's body."There's something to be said for this Muggle clothing," he admitted, whilst motioning for Harry to turn round.

"Draco, I feel stupid," Harry protested, but complied with his boyfriend's request nonetheless.

"Shh, Potter. I'm just admiring how hot you are."

Harry grinned at this. "That seems to be a popular opinion today." Grey eyes narrowed at this.

"Why? Who else has been saying that?" Draco's tone was calm but Harry could sense his jealousy all the same.

"Only Seamus, you know what he's like."

"Maybe I should have a quiet word with that horny Leprechaun. If he's at all attached to his balls he will keep such opinions to himself."

Harry smiled at this and closed the distance between him and the blond. "You know, you're kind of hot yourself when you're all jealous."

"I'm not jealous, Pot..." Whatever else Draco had been planning to say was lost here as Harry's hands planted on his shoulders and he felt himself being pressed up against the door. Harry sealed his lips over the blond's in a searing kiss, his tongue flitting against Draco's, their bodies flush against one another.

When Harry pulled back, gasping from the intensity of the kiss, he found Draco was smirking at him from swollen lips.

"If that's the kind of reaction I get, I think I should try this jealousy thing more often."

Harry smiled lazily in return. "Behave," he admonished.

Draco's hands travelled up to Harry's neck and began to adjust his tie. "Don't you know how to tie these things properly, Potter? Honestly, what would you do without me?"

"Wank a lot," Harry retorted, a cheeky grin on his face.

Draco chuckled at this but any response he planned to make was drowned out by the loud banging on the door.

"I hope you two are decent because I'm coming in. Actually, I don't mind if you are indecent!"

Draco barely had time to move away from the door before it swung open to reveal a grinning Pansy. She took in the sight of both boys in their suits and mock pouted. "Fully clothed, how disappointing."

"Pansy, you really are a dreadful pervert," observed Draco. The blond was stood behind Harry, his hands locked round the Gryffindor's waist, his chin resting on the smaller boy's shoulder.

Pansy walked over to them and ran her finger and thumb down the lapel of Harry's jacket approvingly. "You certainly scrub up well, Harry. I guess I'm going to be the envy of all the girls tonight. And some of the boys too," she added with a cheeky smirk in Draco's direction.

Draco tightened his grip around Harry and trailed several possessive kisses up his neck. Pansy grinned at this territorial behaviour.

"Draco, we're going to be late if we don't leave soon. Daphne is already in the common room waiting impatiently for you. Now stop molesting my date for the evening and let's go."

"He may be your date, Pansy, but Harry's my boyfriend, just remember that." Draco's tone was friendly enough, but Pansy had known him long enough to recognise the warning in his eyes.

"Please, Draco," Pansy answered in a dismissive tone. "I gave up chasing queens a long time ago. Right after you dumped me for Blaise. Now you've got five minutes to do whatever it is you need to do, and then I expect your rather lovely arse down in the common room ready to leave."

She turned on her heel and headed towards the door. As her hand grasped the handle, Pansy paused and looked over her shoulder, a devious smirk on her face.

"If you're any longer, I'll tell Harry all about that stuffed toy you have hidden in the bottom of your trunk. The one you think no one knows about!"

The door slammed behind Pansy before Draco had time to put into action any one of a number of plans for revenge that flitted through his mind. He turned back to Harry and found his boyfriend smirking at him, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Stuffed toy?" was all that Harry said, but it was enough to provoke a furious blush on Draco's face.

"If you mention that again, I will _Obliviate_ you! Now come here, I have something for you."

Draco took hold of Harry's hand and dragged him over to his bed. He rifled in his bedside drawer and produced a small black box which he placed in Harry's palm.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously.

The blond rolled his eyes. "How about you open it and find out?"

Needing no further prompting, Harry pressed the catch on the velvet box and watched in anticipation as the lid popped open. Nestled inside, Harry found the most perfect pair of cufflinks. They were very simple square shape of what looked to Harry like silver (which Draco later explained was platinum.) The metal was matt in appearance so as not to distract from the rather stunning green emerald that was set with in the top right corner.

As Harry looked closer, he noticed that there was some engraving in the bottom left corner. Closer inspection revealed that it was a small H and D intertwined and Harry felt his chest tighten at this simple declaration from his boyfriend.

"Draco, they're beautiful. Would you...Would you put them on for me?"

Harry slipped the box into Draco's outstretched palm and then presented his cuffs to the blond. When Draco had fastened the second cufflink to Harry's shirt, he kept hold of his boyfriend's hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to his pulse point.

"They match your eyes," he murmured.

"They're beautiful," Harry answered, admiring his new adornment.

"So are you," Draco replied without pause.

Harry flushed prettily. "I feel bad, I didn't get you anything."

"Harry, I didn't get those for you to get something in return. Although," he added, a lascivious look on his face. "If you really want to give me something, I'm sure I could come up with a few ideas for later."

"Pansy's waiting, Dray," Harry pointed out reluctantly as the blond pressed closer to him.

"Let her wait," Draco muttered against the sensitive skin of Harry's throat.

A distinct shiver ran through Harry's body as Draco's tongue trailed along his jaw line. He allowed himself to be carried away by the sensation for a moment before a warning shout echoed through the room.

"Draco, you have 60 seconds, or I'm telling the whole common room."

Draco continued licking a trail up Harry's neck, intent on ignoring Pansy's warning.

Harry placed his hand on Draco's cheek and gently eased his head back from its current home in the crook of his neck.

"Draco, we have to go."

"Don't wanna," the blond pouted.

"Stuffed toy," Harry reminded him. "You really want the whole of Slytherin knowing about that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter." Despite his denial, Draco picked up the jacket to his charcoal-grey suit and slipped it on. Harry took a moment to drink in just how good Draco looked in formal Muggle wear.

"Come on, Harry." Draco was already over at the door and looking back at his boyfriend impatiently. It seemed that the threat of revealing his 'deepest secret' worked as a great motivator on the blond. Harry made a mental note to pry more information from Pansy later.

They headed back into the common room which was now virtually empty. Harry watched with narrowed eyes as Draco made his way over to Daphne Greengrass, took her hand and raised it to his lips.

"You look beautiful, as ever," he murmured as his lip pressed against her flesh. Daphne let out a feminine giggle that was designed to be flirtatious but to Harry sounded just like nails on a blackboard.

"Pay no attention," a voice to his left whispered. Harry turned just as Pansy slipped her arm through his. "It's just etiquette. Crap, really, but it's how we were raised" she explained.

Harry grimaced, "Have I mentioned how annoying all this pureblood rubbish is?"

"You may have mentioned it once or twice," Pansy confirmed with a wry smile. "Shall we go?"

Harry nodded in agreement and they followed Draco and Daphne out of the common room and headed in the direction of the Great Hall.


	34. Promise To Try

As they neared the doors to the Great Hall, Harry reached his hand out and took hold of Pansy's, lacing their fingers together.

"Nervous?" she asked."No," Harry denied. Then, seeing the smirk on Pansy's face, he added, "Terrified, more like."

"You'll be fine. I won't make you dance too much, promise."

Harry shot her a grateful smile and squeezed her hand. "Did I mention how lovely you look tonight?"

"No, you didn't. But feel free to mention it as many times as you like."

They came to a halt behind Draco and Daphne, who had paused at the entrance to the Hall. Draco turned to face Pansy, a stern glare on his face.

"I told you, Pansy, no flirting with Harry. He's mine."

Pansy giggled lightly and gave Draco a gentle shove through the doorway."He's mine for tonight."

Before Harry could protest at being talked about like he was a possession, Pansy had led him into the Great Hall and he found himself lost in wonder at how different the room looked.

Instead of the usual four house tables, there were now many smaller, round tables arranged around a central dance floor. There was a platform at the head of the dance floor with instruments already set up on it for the band to take up later.

The ceiling, as usual, reflected the night sky outside, dark, clear and star filled. The lighting in the room came from hundreds of small candles that had been charmed to float in the air above the tables. Bats flapped around in the high ceiling as they did at every Halloween feast, though Hermione had informed Harry that this year they would not be using real ones, but toy ones charmed to fly instead. Mainly due to the inconvenience of having live animals flying overhead whilst people were eating!

The castle ghosts bobbed through the air, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Although Peeves was noticeably absent, and Nearly Headless Nick later confided to Harry that this had been the work of The Bloody Baron, who had scared the poltergeist sufficiently to keep him away from the festivities.

Each of the smaller tables was adorned with a large pumpkin lantern, all of whom sported a similar evil grin. Jewelled silver goblets and large gilded platters were laid out on the tables, and Harry could see that an elegant looking menu was placed in each setting.

Harry looked up and noticed that the teachers had already taken their seats at the top table. He was disappointed to note that they had not indulged in the 'Muggle wear' theme of the evening, all except Hagrid that was, who was sporting a very hairy-looking brown suit. The half-giant noticed Harry looking and gave him an enthusiastic wave, almost knocking Professor Sinistra off her chair in the process. Harry grinned and waved in return, before his attention was claimed by Pansy.

Before Harry was too sure what was happening, he found himself standing in front of a blank screen, looking down the lens of a camera.

"Smile, Harry," he heard a voice instruct. Upon closer inspection it turned out to be Hermione who had spoken and was now smiling at him encouragingly.

"They're for the yearbook, Harry," Hermione said, like this explained everything.

Harry barely had time to marshal his features into something resembling a smile, before a bright flash caused him to blink and step back in surprise.

"That's great," commented the photographer. "Now let's have one of the pair of you."

Harry slipped his arm around Pansy's waist and smiled as best he could into the camera. He had a deep dislike of having his photo taken, which mainly stemmed from being hounded by the press following the final battle.

Draco seemed to notice the tension in Harry's body and he stepped forward.

"That's enough pictures of you, Potter. Let someone else have a turn." It was said with a slight sneer on his face, but Harry could see the concern hidden behind it.

He and Pansy stepped to the side and were immediately greeted by a smiling Hermione, with a reluctant Ron in tow.

"Sorry about that, Harry. I forgot how much you hate having your picture taken."

"It's okay." Harry shrugged. "A couple of pictures I can handle. Just tell me you haven't got Rita Skeeter waiting in the wings as well."

Hermione chucked at this. "I promise." Then she turned her attention to Harry's date.

"You look nice, Pansy. Doesn't she, Ron?" Harry didn't miss the sharp dig to Ron's ribs that accompanied this question and felt warmth spread through his chest at Hermione's actions. She obviously thought that he and Pansy were dating and because of that she was making an effort to be pleasant to the Slytherin. Harry could only hope that she would be similarly understanding when she eventually found out about Draco.

"Um, yes, very nice." Ron stumbled over the words, as if they were causing him pain to say.

"Thank you," Pansy said, blushing prettily. "You look nice too," she ventured. "Your hair looks lovely.

Hermione smiled warmly at this. "It took absolutely ages to get it like this. I'm glad someone noticed," she wound up, with a pointed stare at an oblivious Ron.

Shaking her head at her clueless boyfriend, Hermione turned back to Harry.

"Come on; let me show you to your table. Professor McGonagall's still on this inter-house unity kick, so she had us set the tables up with a mix from each house on them."

Harry's heart sank a little at this news. He may not have been able to come as Draco's date, but he had certainly hoped to be able to spend time with his boyfriend. And now it looked like they wouldn't even be able to sit together.

Hermione paused by a table and gestured to it. "This is your table, you two. Have a good evening." With that, she was back off to greet more new arrivals. Harry turned to look at the table and was relieved to find friendly faces looking back at him. Already seated were Neville and Susan Bones who smiled welcomingly. Harry's eye travelled further round the table and he saw both Dean and Luna grinning back at him.

Harry pulled out Pansy's chair for her and smirked at the girl when she looked at him in surprise.

"It's not just purebloods who have manners, you know."

Pansy was about to make a biting comeback to this when she noticed that she had lost Harry's attention. A broad smile had crossed the Gryffindor's face and when Pansy turned to see what it was, she saw Draco and Daphne being led towards their table by Ernie McMillan.

Harry was a little disappointed when Daphne slid into the seat at the side of him, but smiled welcomingly at the girl despite this. Draco was even less pleased than Harry with the seating arrangements. There was a definite tightening of the blond's jaw when he saw that the only vacant seat left at the table was next to Luna.

Harry initially thought it might be due to the thought of having to listen to tales of Crumple-Horned Snorkaks over dinner. However, it then occurred to him that Draco probably felt uncomfortable sitting next to the girl who spent several weeks held as a prisoner in his home.After a series of friendly nods and hellos all round, an uneasy silence descended over the table and no one seemed eager to be the one to break it, not even Luna, who was not normally troubled by such concerns.

In the end it was Neville who braved the silence and began a tentative conversation with Pansy regarding the decorations. This was all it took to break the ice, and by the time the start of the feast was announced, all the occupants of the table were involved in superficial, but friendly conversation.

The talk died down during the meal itself. Harry amused himself by watching the barely concealed looks of disgust that crossed Draco's face at the table manners of some of the others. Both Dean and Neville had a habit of talking with a mouthful of food. It was a habit that Harry used to have, but since getting together with Draco, he had received a crash course in table etiquette and knew better than to do that now.

Harry tried his best to ignore the constant flirting that Daphne was indulging in with Draco. Although the blond seemed to be encouraging the girl, Harry kept reminding himself that Draco was gay and wasn't interested in girls. It worked too; right up until Harry looked down and saw a feminine hand slide onto Draco's thigh.

Draco seemed to make no effort to remove it and Harry had to take several deep breaths to calm himself. He reached out a shaking hand for his goblet and 'inadvertently' knocked it over, causing the liquid to spill over the table and fall mainly into Daphne's lap.

Daphne let out a girlish squeak and jumped up quickly, trying to save her dress. Harry fell over himself to make his apologies, but there was a look in his eye that let the girl know exactly what had happened and warned her against future actions. When he was satisfied that he had made his point, Harry got out his wand and cast a quick Cleaning Charm. He looked up and found Draco grinning at him wildly and, more disturbingly, Luna was looking at him with a knowing smile.Once the meal was finished and the tables cleared, Professor McGonagall rose in her seat to make a brief speech. Very little of what she said was actually heard, most of it was drowned out by whoops and cheers after her announcement that the teachers would in fact be leaving them to their own devices for the rest of the evening. The Head boy and girl, along with the prefects, were left in charge of the proceedings as the teachers slowly filed out of the room, much to the glee of all concerned.

Only minutes later, the band took their positions on the stage, picked up their instruments and struck up a lively tune. Daphne was immediately on her feet.

"Draco, I just love this song. We absolutely have to dance to it." She grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him to his feet without even waiting for his response. Watching in amusement as the protesting blond was pulled onto the dance floor; Harry turned to Pansy and held out his hand

"Shall we?"

"No, not just yet. By the look of this, it might be worth just watching." She indicated with a nod of her head and Harry turned to see what she meant.

The prefects had taken to the dance floor in an effort to get the ball rolling. In what, Harry suspected, was a blatantly forced display of inter-house unity, prefects from differing houses were dancing together. Hermione and Blaise looked good together, Harry reflected. But the amusement definitely lay in the fact that Ron was currently waltzing Millicent Bulstrode round the dance floor, trying his best to look relaxed, and failing miserably."Ron looks a little uncomfortable," Pansy ventured.Harry could do no more than burst out laughing, and he was swiftly joined in this by Pansy and the rest of their table.

It didn't take long before the floor was filled. Harry felt a small twist in his gut as he watched the carefree couples pressed tight against each other, taking the moment of closeness for granted. He realised he would have given just about anything to be able to hold Draco like that, to let everyone see how much he loved his boyfriend. But then, Harry reflected, it might be an idea to let Draco know just how much he loved him before he started letting everyone else in on the secret.

Turning to speak to Pansy, Harry noticed a faraway look in her eyes. Following her gaze, he saw that she was watching Theodore Nott, who was currently dancing with Tracey Davis. Realising that Harry was watching her; Pansy tore her gaze away and blinked back unshed tears.

"Pansy," Harry began softly. "Why are you here with me, and with not Theo? It's obvious that you two like each other. Surely Draco would have understood if you explained it to him?"

Pansy smiled despite herself. "He did suggest it, but I didn't want to. Besides, I think I'm the only girl he would have trusted with you."

Harry looked a little confused at this. "But they all know I'm gay!"

"Yes," Pansy agreed. "But they're Slytherins and you are, quite frankly, hot. Besides, I wanted to come with you. What's the point of a hag if she hasn't got at least one of her fags at her side?"

Harry laughed at this but gave a warning nod in the direction of Dean and Luna, both of whom were oblivious to his preferences.

Several more songs had played out before Draco and Daphne made their way back to the table. Draco flopped down into the chair at the side of Harry.

"I need a break, Daphne. You'll have to give me a few minutes."

The petite girl pouted at this. "Fine," she huffed, "I suppose I should go and check my makeup anyway. You coming, Pansy?"

The two girls took leave of their dates and headed to the bathrooms that had newly been transfigured out of one of the storage rooms at the side of the Great Hall.

Now that he was seated at the side of Harry, Draco took advantage of the closeness and slid his hand onto Harry's thigh, his fingertips tracing circles on the sensitive flesh. At the unexpected touch, Harry let out a gasp before he could stop himself.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Luna queried, biting back the laughter in her voice. She had seen the movement of Draco's hand and knew exactly what was wrong with Harry.

"Fine thanks, Luna," Harry managed to choke out, casting a glare in Draco's direction. Draco ignored Harry's gaze and sat coolly as if completely unaware of what was happening, all the while inching his fingertips higher up Harry's inner thigh.

Chuckling to herself, Luna got to her feet and went in search of refreshments for her and Dean. The dark boy sat fidgeting, his eyes flicking between Harry and Draco. Suddenly he cleared his throat nervously; causing both the other boy's to turn their attention to him. As Dean's gaze fixed on Draco, Harry could feel his boyfriend tense.

"Malfoy," Dean began, uncertainly. "I just wanted to...um, you see..." He stopped here, burying his head in his hands momentarily. Just as the tension threatened to become unbearable, he looked up, his eyes once again fixed on Draco.

"Look, this isn't easy for me to say, Malfoy."

"So I see," Draco responded dryly, unable to help himself.

"It's just that Luna told me what you did for her when she was..." Dean tailed off again, uncertain how best to phrase what he wanted to say.

"Imprisoned by my family?" Draco supplied. His tone was perfectly neutral but Harry could see that his hands had clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles were white. Harry slid a hand over the fist and stroked it with his fingers until it unfurled and he was able to lace his and Draco's hands together, giving a reassuring squeeze.

"Well, yes." Dean nodded uncomfortably. "I guess that pretty much covers it. But you're not your family and I don't ... Look, what I'm trying to say is thank you. You didn't have to do any of it, but you did, and I know what it cost you."

Draco's grip on Harry's hand became painfully tight at this. "Please don't mention it," he managed to say stiffly.

Dean stood up at this. "I guess I had better go and find Luna. She's probably being attacked by Wrackspurts by now." He held out his hand to Draco who took hold of it and shook slightly, a small smile on his face. Dean went to walk away but something occurred to him and he turned back to the table, a grin on his face.

"Oh, and I know I'm not supposed to know, but frankly that's your fault for telling Seamus. But I just wanted to say that I think you two...well, it's kind of fitting that you ended up together and if you ever decide to go public, well you can count on my support."

Slightly shocked by that revelation, Harry turned a dazed expression to Draco. He noticed, with concern, that the blond was looking paler than ever despite the warmth of the candle light. He held Draco's hand and rubbed his thumb soothingly over his knuckles. He opened his mouth to speak but Draco cut him off.

"Don't, please," was all he said, but it was enough for Harry.

"Okay," he replied with a gentle squeeze of Draco's hand.

Before the moment had time to turn awkward, Pansy and Daphne returned to the table and both boys were promptly dragged onto the dance floor.

As Harry wrapped his arms around Pansy and moved to the beat of the music, he was amazed at how much easier he found it than on previous attempts. They managed to make it through an entire song without Harry once stepping on Pansy's toes, a fact which did not go unnoticed by others.

Hermione and Ron were dancing close by and had noticed Harry's improved dancing skills, or rather Hermione had noticed; Ron was too busy watching what his own feet were doing.

Hermione leaned over and tapped Harry lightly on the shoulder to catch his attention.

"Harry, you're dancing!"Harry flushed a little. "I don't know if it's exactly dancing," he mumbled.

"Nonsense," Pansy interjected. "You're doing just fine; just remember what I taught you."

"You gave him dance lessons?" Hermione enquired, a smile quirking at the edges of her lips.

Pansy let out a soft snort. "You saw the way he used to dance; of course I gave him dance lessons. I'm quite attached to my feet."

Both girls chuckled at this and Harry didn't know whether to be relieved that they were getting along or put out that they were laughing at his expense. Fortunately the band struck up again at that point so there was no need for further conversation.

It was several songs later before Pansy could be persuaded to take pity on Harry and allow him a break. They made their way back to the table and Harry went off in search of refreshments.

When Harry returned, the table was empty apart from the two of them and he took the opportunity to slip off his shoes and rest his feet on one of the empty chairs.

"These shoes are killing me," he complained.

"Well, don't look to me for sympathy," replied Pansy, slipping her own shoes off. "You should try wearing these damn things." Without further words, she lifted her feet off the floor and laid them on Harry's lap.

"Comfy?" he enquired.

"Very. Now shush," Pansy returned, raising her goblet to her lips.

They were still sat in just this fashion some minutes later when Hermione made her way over to the table. She gave them an apologetic look for interrupting what she believed was an intimate moment between the couple.

"Sorry to disturb you. I just wondered if you would mind if I stole Harry for a few minutes. I want to try out his new dance moves for myself."

Harry shot Pansy a pleading look which was promptly ignored. "Sure," Pansy replied lazily. "Take him away and do what you will with him! Just so long as you return him in once piece when you've done."

Hermione smiled at Pansy, "Thanks. Come on then, Harry." She waited patiently while Harry slipped his shoes back on and stood up, unceremoniously dumping Pansy's feet to the floor. Taking hold of Hermione's hand, Harry began to lead her in the direction of the dance floor, pausing only to shoot a glare in Pansy direction.

Pansy returned the glare with interest and stuck out her tongue for good measure. She popped her feet up onto Harry's newly vacated chair and sighed in relief as the 'shoe induced' throb lessened to a dull ache.

Her eyes followed Harry as he made his way onto the dance floor and she was filled with something akin to pride as he led Hermione confidently. Pansy noticed that she wasn't the only one watching Harry's progress. Despite Daphne's best efforts to hold Draco's attention, the blond had eyes for no one other than a certain green-eyed Gryffindor.

Not that this lack of interest did much to dissuade his partner's interest. Daphne was pressed much closer to Draco than the dance called for. Her hips seemed to think they were moving to a Latin beat, judging from the writhing they were doing, rather than the slow waltz that currently filled the air.

Pansy made a metal note to discuss the concept of self-respect with her fellow Slytherin at the next opportunity. There was nothing more desperate that a girl throwing herself at a blatantly gay man. Nobody knew that better than her, Pansy thought. It had taken many years and some heated arguments before she had finally accepted Draco's sexuality.

So lost in thought was she, that Pansy didn't spot Ginny Weasley approaching until the girl was almost upon her. Not wanting to be at a disadvantage, Pansy stood up immediately, the adrenalin running through her veins eradicating all thoughts of aching feet.

"What did I tell you about staying away from Harry?" Ginny spat, her face bright red with rage.

Feeling more confident in the confrontation as they were in a room full of people, Pansy glared at the redhead and folded her arms across her chest defiantly. Further enraged by Pansy's refusal to be intimidated, Ginny stepped even closer so that they were almost toe to toe.

"Do you actually believe that Harry will choose someone like you over me?" Ginny was that close that Pansy felt a faint spray of spittle hit her face. She wiped her face delicately with her fingertips and allowed a smirk to cross her face.

"I rather think he already has, don't you?"

Pansy saw the blow coming before she felt it. But it was so quick that she was unable to do anything but stagger slightly from the force of the blow. Again she smirked at Ginny.

"In front of witnesses, Weasley? That's not usually your style."

This time Pansy anticipated the blow and raised her hand quickly enough to grab Ginny's wrist mid swing.

"That's the last time you lay a hand on me." The look she gave Ginny was pure ice and in that moment the redhead was faced with the Pansy Parkinson of old.

But Ginny was too far gone in her temper to heed any kind of warning sign. She wrenched her arm free from Pansy's grip, her body fairly shaking with rage.

"Think you're clever?" she spat. "You won't when I tell them, when I tell the whole school the truth about you."

"That's enough, Ginny." A sharp voice interrupted and Pansy almost collapsed in relief at the sight of Harry.

"Harry, I was-"

"Enough, I said." Harry cut across Ginny's speech, not sure he could control his temper around the redhead. He turned to Pansy, noting the faint tremors that ran through her body with concern.

"You okay, Pansy?" he asked softly.

"Why are you concerned about her, Harry?" Ginny shrieked. "Do you know what she is? What she did? She's nothing but a Death Eaters' whore."

CRACK

The sound echoed loudly despite the noise-filled room. Ginny stood, one hand pressed to her flaming cheek, staring at Hermione in abject shock.

"No more, Ginny. You're getting hysterical." Hermione was all Head girl now, her voice cold and it seemed to bring Ginny back to some semblance of reality. There was a look of pure disgust on Hermione's face as she looked at the younger girl.

"I think it would be best if you left now, Ginny. Go back up to Gryffindor tower. I suggest you use the time to think about what you're going to say to Professor McGonagall about this tomorrow."

Ginny span on her heel and stormed off, tears of self-pity streaming down her cheeks.

"Are you alright, Pansy?" Hermione turned to the Slytherin girl in concern.

Pansy only nodded in reply. Harry wrapped a steadying arm around her waist and guided her gently into a chair.

"Thanks, Hermione. I'll take it from here." Harry sank down into the seat next to Pansy, green eyes full of worry.

He tentatively placed a hand on her shoulders and felt that the girl was shaking. "Pansy, do you want me to get Draco?" Harry figured that maybe the blond would be better placed to handle the situation than he was.

Pansy turned wide eyes to him. "No, don't do that," she said urgently. "He'll only get angry and make things worse. I just need to sit for a bit. In fact, I need to go to the loo, excuse me a minute."

Harry only nodded in response. Pansy probably had a point about Draco so he dismissed his first idea of involving his boyfriend. He watched Pansy as she walked unsteadily across the room, still unable to process just how far Ginny had gone.

He should really be surprised, Harry thought. After all, if he hadn't stopped her that time on the Hogwarts Express, Ginny would have probably done worse. As he played the events over in his mind, things started to click into place for Harry. He was now convinced that Ginny had been the cause of the unexplained bruises that Pansy had sported a few weeks ago. What he couldn't figure out was why Pansy hadn't told anyone.

Harry sat mulling the events over for quite some time until it occurred to him that Pansy had been gone a while. At first he told himself that she was probably still upset and just trying to calm down before she came back. But when another ten minutes went by and still the girl hadn't reappeared, Harry started to panic.

What if Ginny hadn't gone back up to the tower like she was supposed to? What if she had hung around and got hold of Pansy somehow? Harry scrabbled in his pocket for the Marauders Map and his wand. Activating the parchment he was relieved to see the dot marked Ginny Weasley was currently residing in Gryffindor tower. Upon closer inspection Harry finally located Pansy's dot down in the Slytherin dungeons.

Barely pausing to grab his jacket of the back of his chair, Harry made his way out of the Great Hall and headed down into the dungeons. Pansy had seemed really shaken up after the confrontation with Ginny, and Harry needed to reassure himself that she was okay.Harry hurried through the Slytherin common room, oblivious to the curious stares of various house members. He thanked any God that was listening that Slytherin girls' dormitories were not like the ones in Gryffindor. The last thing he needed to deal with now was a staircase that turned into a slide at the first step of a boys' foot on it.

He knocked tentatively on Pansy's door. When there was no reply, he slowly twisted the handle.

"Pansy, if you're in there, it's me, Harry. I'm coming in."

He opened the door and immediately spotted Pansy huddled on the floor at the side of her bed. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight of Harry. She dropped something to the floor and quickly clamped her hand to her arm, but not firm enough to stem the trickle of blood that made its way through her fingers.

In that moment, Harry felt the world stop. All that existed was the loud thumping of his heart and that trail of blood that was slowly snaking down the pale flesh on Pansy's arm.

"Get out, Harry." Pansy's voice was weak and shaky and Harry paid no attention.

He crossed the room in a few strides and sank to the floor at Pansy's side. He took hold of her arm and slowly prised her hand off the cut. It wasn't a particularly big cut, but it was deep and the blood trickled faster now. Harry felt slightly sick at the sight, and ever sicker about the fact that even in this situation he found himself calmed by the sight of the blood.

He reached for wand and, holding it over the wound, whispered: _"Tergeo."_ The excess blood was immediately siphoned away, leaving the clean cut bare on Pansy's arm.

Harry produced the handkerchief that Draco had insisted he carry, and swiftly bound it round Pansy's arm, instructing the girl to keep pressure on it until the bleeding had stopped.

This done, Harry allowed himself to look at the shaken girl.

"Do you want to tell me why?" he asked gently.

Pansy nodded slowly. "I think I should."

"Let's get comfy then," Harry suggested. He stood up and practically lifted Pansy onto the bed. He climbed on also and leant against the wall, pulling Pansy towards him so that she was sitting sideways in his lap.

"Draco would have a fit if he saw this," Pansy mused.

"I think he'd be more worried about you," Harry answered seriously.

Pansy squirmed in Harry's lap. "I'm not really sure where to start," she said finally.

"Wherever you feel comfortable," Harry replied, his hand rubbing Pansy's back soothingly.

"It will take a while to explain everything."

"That's okay. I have all the time in the world to listen to you right now."

Pansy snuggled in closer to Harry's chest, not able to look at the boy while she told him her story.

"I guess it all started when they approached my father to join the Death Eaters. He didn't want to join them. I mean, sure he believed in a lot of their theories, but he wasn't a killer. Unfortunately, it's not exactly an offer you can turn down. Dad tried to say no, to explain he would be no good at it, but they wouldn't listen. In the end they made him watch while they killed my mother and said that I would be next if he didn't do what they wanted."

Harry's grip tightened round Pansy as he felt the tremors begin running through her body again.

"Pansy, you don't have to do this now. It can wait till you're feeling a bit better."

Pansy shook her head stubbornly. "If I don't do this now, I'll probably never do it."

She relaxed into Harry's body again and picked up the thread of her story.

"Last year at school was awful. Blaise and Millie were gone, Theo just retreated into himself and Vince and Greg had already become Death Eaters themselves. Draco and I only had each other. His family were out of favour with V-Voldermort by then so we were both watched really closely. Vince and Greg would spy on us and report back to the Carrows. I know the other students had it hard, but sometimes I think it was worse for us. Not even the side that was supposed to be ours wanted us. Draco tried to resist, but I couldn't, I was too weak."

Pansy pulled away from Harry's body and looked into his face. He saw tear tracks coursing down her cheeks and reached out to brush them away.

"I know I was never a very nice girl, Harry. But I don't like hurting people. If they thought we were being soft on the other students, they would punish us instead. They only had to use the Cruciatus on me once and I never questioned what they wanted me to do again. It just hurt so much."

"I know," Harry murmured soothingly.

"I never really supported Voldemort, not properly, and I certainly didn't after they killed my mother."

"So why..." Harry began.

"Why did I want to hand you over to him?"

"Um, yes."

"Because I was angry at you. I thought that if you had just killed Voldemort like you were supposed to, then it would all have been over. I hated you so much at that moment and even though it meant that the Death Eaters would win, I just wanted it to be over. I was terrified that my father was going to be killed in the battle."

"And then, after they evacuated the school, my father found me in Hogsmeade. We were going to escape together. He explained his plan to me; how we were going to disappear, go abroad. But before we could leave we were surrounded by three Death Eaters. They dragged us off, up to near where that haunted shack is. Then they made my father watch while they..." Pansy's voice broke into a quiet sob here and Harry tightened his arms around her.

After a few moments, she seemed to regain her composure and spoke again, her voice still shaky. "They raped me. They made my father watch that and then they killed him. I don't know why they didn't kill me. I think they thought that they had brutalised me that much that I would die anyway. Or maybe they thought it would be worse for me to live with the memories of what they did."

Pansy broke down again at this and sobbed heartbrokenly on Harry's shoulder. He held her tightly, blinking the tears away from his own eyes, and rocked her gently. He didn't say anything because really, what could you say to that?

"I told the Aurors that I didn't know who they were," Pansy's voice was muffled against the fabric of Harry's shirt. "But I lied, Harry. I knew who one of them was."

Harry held his breath for a moment; a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew what was coming next.

"It was Theo's father. His father raped me and left me to die, and I can't tell him because he doesn't deserve to live with that knowledge. But I like him so much and it hurts that I can't be around him, because he looks too much like his dad.

Harry let out a breath, feeling sick for Pansy but relief for Draco that she hadn't just named Lucius as her attacker. Pansy looked up at him with sad eyes and spoke in a voice that still trembled with emotion.

"Draco doesn't know. I mean, he knows about most of it, just not that it was Theo's father. I don't think he would handle it very well."

Harry nodded in agreement. He rather suspected that if Draco did know, he would take it out on Theodore. And as Pansy said, it wasn't the boy's fault what his father had done.

"But how does Ginny know about that?" Harry asked after a moments silence.

Pansy looked horrified for a moment. "You think she knows?"

Harry shifted uneasily. "Well, from what she said. She called you..."

"A Death Eater whore," Pansy supplied.

"Well, yeah," Harry confirmed uncomfortably. "I just figured that was what she was talking about."

Pansy shook her head. "I don't think so. There's no way she could know that. There was no trial or anything, so it's not public knowledge."

"So what was she talking about then?" Harry pressed.

Pansy tensed in his arms and was silent for a moment.

"Amycus Carrow," she whispered. "It was one of his ways of punishing us if we didn't cooperate

"He used to make you have sex with him?" Harry asked in horrified tones.

"Not sex exactly, but close enough."

"But I still don't get how Ginny would know this. Are you saying they did it to her too?"

Pansy laughed bitterly at that. "No, that particular pleasure was reserved for the wayward children of Death Eaters. Those who were too terrified to do anything but what they were told. Someone saw me once, when I was with him. I was in his office and his sister came bursting in, dragging some kid behind her. He didn't even try to hide what he was doing. He just held on to me and forced me to carry on all the while he was talking to his sister. I guess that's how Ginny knows; I suppose she's not the only one either."

Pansy lapsed into silence again, just holding on to Harry tightly for comfort. After what seemed like an age, she turned to him.

"So what about you?" she asked softly.

"Huh?" Harry replied, confused.

"Why do you do it?" She traced her finger down Harry's left forearm as she spoke, so he was in no doubt as to what she meant.

It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to deny everything, to play dumb and pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. But somehow, after the honesty that Pansy had shown him by telling her story, he felt he could do no less than the same in return.

"I'm not really sure," Harry began uncertainly. "I guess mainly for the same reasons that you used to hate me. Because I blame myself for taking too long, for so many people dying. And because I'm Harry Potter and I'm not allowed to show weakness; I'm supposed to be this brave saviour, and the truth is I'm not and I wouldn't know how to be. And then, on top of all that, it turns out that I'm gay. Which is just marvellous, because Merlin knows I don't stand out enough already."

Harry paused for breath, before looking Pansy in the eye. "It just helps sometimes, you know?"

And Pansy nodded, because she really did know. "Can I see?" She asked quietly.

Harry looked at her curiously for a moment before rolling up his sleeve and removing the Glamour on his arm. Pansy ran her fingertip lightly over the faded pink scars on his arms and looked at him.

"I haven't done it in a while," he explained.

Pansy nodded and then quietly removed her own glamour which revealed dozens of scars up and down the whole of her arm. Harry's eyes widened as he took in the extent of Pansy's problem.

"We need to stop," he managed to say finally.

"I don't know if I can," Pansy replied honestly. "You won't tell Draco about this will you?" Her tone slightly panicked at this thought.

"I'm hardly in a position to do that, am I?" Harry asked wryly. "But we can't go on like this, Pansy."

The girl let out a deep sigh. "I know. I promise to try." She curled back up in Harry's arms and snuggled against his warm body, revelling in the feel of his hands stroking her hair.

"We'll be okay," Harry murmured, his lips pressed to her forehead.

"I hope so."

They lay like that; just holding each other, until the change in Pansy's breathing indicated that the girl had fallen asleep. Harry managed to slide out from behind her and lay her gently down on the pillows. He picked up his wand and put both of their Glamours' back in place, before gently pulling the covers over her body.

Harry then cast a Cleaning Charm over his shirt to remove the blood stains. He stood over Pansy's bed, just watching her sleep, marvelling that she found the strength to go on living after what she had been through. He leant down and placed a chaste kiss to her forehead and tucked the covers in tight round her.

"G'night, Pansy," he whispered, closing the door gently behind him.

Draco was waiting for him in the common room when he entered. The blond spun round at the sound of footsteps.

"How is she?" he demanded before Harry had the chance to speak.

"She'll be okay," Harry answered, praying it was the truth.

"I didn't want to interrupt," Draco explained. "I figured you were having a warm and fuzzy Hufflepuff type moment in there, and I would've been next to useless in that situation."

Harry walked closer to Draco and wrapped his arms round him tight. "I think you're plenty warm and fuzzy," he murmured as his lips pressed against the soft flesh of Draco's neck.

"Harry?"

"Mhmm?"

"Do you think it was the She-Weasel last time? You know, when Pansy had those bruises and wouldn't say what happened."

Harry pulled back reluctantly. "It certainly looks that way now, but I'm sure she'll tell us in her own time. Don't push her on it; she's a bit fragile at the moment."

Draco looked at Harry thoughtfully for a moment. "She told you, didn't she? Pansy told you what happened to her."

It was more of a statement than a question but Harry nodded all the same, struggling to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall for quite some time now. He cuddled back up to Draco again.

"Can we just go to bed please? I just want to hold you."

Draco wrapped his arms round Harry in return. He leant down and softly kissed away the tears that were slowly running down Harry's face. "I think that can be arranged."


	35. All In Good Time

Ginny had returned to Gryffindor Tower still seething about the evenings events. She hadn't planned to actually attack Pansy, just warn the girl off. But when the Slytherin had dared to suggest that Harry had chosen her over Ginny, well it just made Ginny see red.

She had felt a twinge of unease at Harry's reaction, but comforted herself with the thought that he would come round. Now that he had heard what Ginny had known all along, now he knew just what that Parkinson bitch really was.

Ginny had never before felt hatred of the kind that built within her when she thought of the Slytherin girl. It had originally stemmed from her attempt to turn Harry over to Voldemort before the Final Battle, but now it was so much more. The way Ginny saw it, Pansy had stolen her future.

Ginny had grown up hearing stories of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and had developed a large crush before even meeting the boy. She couldn't believe her luck when she had started Hogwarts and found that not only was her idol there, but that he was best friends with her brother.

Harry saving her from the Chamber of Secrets just put the finishing touches on her obsession. From that point on she looked upon Harry as hers, the one she would love, marry and eventually have a family with.

When they had finally got together in her 5th year it had been all that Ginny had dreamt of. Harry had been the perfect boyfriend of her fantasies; caring, considerate and loving. If he had shied away from the more intimate side of their relationship, Ginny only took that as a sign of how much he respected her, and loved him all the more for it.

Then it had all begun to fall apart so fast; Death Eaters attacking the school, Snape killing Dumbledore and Harry leaving.

Ginny knew bitter jealousy for the first time that summer, watching her now ex boyfriend with Ron and Hermione, so close to each other, sharing secrets that she would never be privy to. And then they were gone and Ginny had to return to Hogwarts alone.

The anger that fuelled her resistance that year wasn't from outrage at the Death Eaters' murderous ways, or from memories of her brother's injuries at the hands of Greyback, it wasn't even about the constant torture meted out by the Carrows. It was all about Harry. Those people were the reason that she and Harry couldn't be together and she was determined to make them pay for it in any way possible.

And then the war had finished, with Harry as the world's hero, not just hers. But he had been different, quieter and more withdrawn. Every time Ginny had mentioned resuming their relationship he had stalled for time, saying he wasn't ready.

When Ginny finally realised that Harry had no intention of them getting back together, the anger she felt was like nothing she had known before. Pure fury ran through her veins. Not at Harry, she could never really be angry with him. Besides, she didn't blame Harry. The war had changed him, things he had seen, people he had lost, and Ginny understood that.

Her anger was reserved for those that had done this to him. For those people who had taken her perfect, loving boyfriend and returned him to her as a scarred shell of the person he had once been. But Voldemort was gone and the Death Eaters were either dead or in Azkaban and this had left Ginny with no one to focus her hatred on.

That was until September 1st, until she had seen Pansy Parkinson walk past her carriage on the Hogwarts Express. Everything had fallen into place at that moment. The Death Eaters may have been gone, but Ginny had the next best thing right under her nose – Slytherins.

The terror that Ginny had seen in Pansy's eyes that day had been the most exhilarating experience, ruined only by Harry's noble intervention. Even Ginny couldn't help but see the irony of the situation that arose from this. Her attempt to punish those responsible for taking Harry from her had only served to push him further away, right into the arms of the very people that Ginny blamed.

The Slytherins had managed to pull the wool over Harry's eyes; they had taken advantage of his good nature and pretended to be his friends. But Ginny knew they were only doing this to save their own skins, to redeem themselves in the eyes of the school by befriending Harry Potter.

But Harry knew now, he had heard Ginny say what kind of person Pansy really was. It wouldn't take long before he came to his senses and saw the girl for what she really was and then he would come back to her. He would understand that everything Ginny had done had been for him, to save him from the clutches of those who would exploit his good nature.

Ginny slept peacefully that night, secure in the belief that Harry would return to her before long and smug in the assumption that Hermione would not follow through with the threat to report her behaviour to Professor McGonagall.

Therefore, she was stunned when on Sunday afternoon she was summoned to the Headmistress's study along with the Head Girl.

What was said within those walls remained known only to the participants. But details of Ginny's punishments, when they became known, were a firm indicator of the wrath she had incurred.

It was clear to all that Professor McGonagall had decided to make an example of Ginny as a warning to any other students leaning towards similar behaviour. The Headmistress knew that if she didn't make a concerted effort to stamp out the undercurrent of animosity, which still bubbled under the surface, then incidents of this kind would only increase.

Deep down, McGonagall had always thought that Dumbledore had been too lenient when it came to discipline of wayward students and she firmly intended to stop the rot.

Had Ginny made some show of remorse for her actions she might have mitigated her punishment. But sensing that she was already in deep, the redhead threw caution (and common sense) to the wind. She faced the Headmistress with a determined set to her jaw and faint insolence marring her pretty face. Her tone, when she spoke, was disrespectful and full of defiance and she resolutely refused to acknowledge she had, in any way, been wrong in her actions.

To say that Professor McGonagall had been surprised to meet with this attitude was an understatement. As Ginny's old Head of House, she had always found the girl to be polite and well behaved. The Headmistress understood that many of her students had undergone a turbulent couple of years, and whenever possible she tried to make allowances for the trauma they had all suffered as a result of the war.

But when Professor McGonagall informed Ginny that she would be required to apologise to Pansy, the tenuous hold that the redhead had on her temper gave way. When Ginny went so far as to repeat the accusations she had flung at Pansy the night before, retribution was swift.

100 points were immediately docked from Gryffindor, which this early in the term would put them in almost negative figures. This was followed by a full month of detentions, every weekday night after dinner. But the real genius lay in the Headmistress's edict that unless Ginny apologise to Pansy, and as publicly as her attack had been, then she would be banned from all extracurricular activities. This meant no trips to Hogsmeade, no more dances or parties and most importantly - NO QUIDDITCH.

Unfortunately this punishment did little to inspire regret within the youngest Weasley. All it served to do was harden her resolve and increase her desire for revenge against the one person she firmly blamed for everything – Pansy. Ginny remained firm in her belief that Harry would come to his senses soon and see the Slytherin girl for what she really was, and Ginny was determined to do everything she could to encourage this.

* * *

The first two weeks of November passed by in a flurry of activity for Harry and Draco. Both boys were busy with last minute preparations for the upcoming Quidditch match between their houses.

Harry's feelings for Draco and his friendships with the other Slytherins in no way diminished his desire to win. Since Harry had been on the Gryffindor team they had not lost a match to Slytherin and Harry didn't intend to lose this clean sheet in his last year.

On top of ordinary practice, Harry had the added pressure of having to replace Ginny at very short notice. Much of Gryffindor's practice was taken up with trying to break in Natalie McDonald until the 5th year was comfortable with her new chaser position.

As much of an inconvenience as this was, and as much of a loss as Ginny was to the team, Harry couldn't help but be glad he didn't have to contend with the volatile redhead. He was still furious at her for what she had done to Pansy and didn't trust himself to keep calm in such close contact with her. So while the rest of the team bemoaned the loss of one of their chasers, Harry was secretly relieved.

Draco too had new team members to contend with, although he at least had had a couple of months to train them into their new positions. The two new beaters seemed to be shaping up nicely. They lacked the sheer bulk that Crabbe and Goyle had brought to the position. But this wasn't absolutely necessary, Draco reflected, as the Weasley twins had proved more than adequately in their day.

When they weren't tied up with practice or schoolwork, the two boys were usually too tired to do anything but sleep at night and both were feeling extremely frustrated as a result.

So they were infinitely relieved when the day of the game came round. Not because of their desire to win, but simply because of their desire to be together. Draco had suggested they add an extra incentive other than the joy of victory. He had proposed that the captain of the loosing team would be the willing servant of the winning captain for the night.

Harry agreed readily, after all it was a bet that he didn't think he could really lose on. Either he won the game and had Draco service his body's every need, or he lost the game but got to worship Draco's body as it deserved. He won either way.

The morning of the first Quidditch game of the season dawned bright and cold. Harry no longer felt the nervousness that used to plague him before a match and he needed no persuasion to make a good breakfast. In fact, he seemed to be vying with Ron in an unspoken competition as to who could consume the most sausages.

Ron seemed to be swept up with Quidditch fever and had forgotten all previous animosity towards Harry. He chatted amiably with his old friend, making suggestions on tactics in between mouthfuls of food. Harry grinned to himself, imagining what Draco's reaction would be if he could witness Ron's eating habits.

Harry tried his best to avoid eye contact with Ginny. It wasn't too hard as she no longer sat near them at mealtimes, preferring to be further down the table with the 5th years. Not only was she avoiding Harry, but now Ron and Hermione too. Ginny had refused to speak to the Head Girl ever since she had reported her to Professor McGonagall after the dance. The redhead irrationally blamed her punishment on Hermione for having reported her, rather than on herself for behaving that way in the first place.

Hermione was, as a rule, an easy going girl, but she had a temper and could be as stubborn as any Weasley when necessary. Whilst she understood that it made things very awkward for Ron, having his sister and girlfriend at loggerheads, she refused to back down.

Ron tried his best to stay out of what he considered to be a girls' fight. However, his attempts at neutrality failed, as both girls considered that you were either with them, or against them. He understood Ginny's dislike of the Slytherins, hating them only marginally less himself. But he also realised that Hermione had had no choice but to report what had happened and that Ginny had caused her own problems by a complete lack of self-control.

And even Ron had to admit that since her punishment had come into force, Quidditch practices were much easier without the air of tension that usually accompanied her presences.

By 10.30 that morning, most of the school had spilled outdoors and was making their way down to the Quidditch pitch. Most of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had arrayed themselves in Gryffindor colours as a blatant display of their loyalties, but a smaller proportion had chosen to make their own statement by draping themselves in Slytherin green. In itself, a small sign of the thawing of tensions between the houses, which did not go unnoticed by Professor McGonagall.

As 11 o'clock rolled round, both teams had made their way to the pitch. Madam Hooch stood in the centre, the Quaffle in one hand and a silver whistle in the other.

Harry and Draco both stepped forward on her instruction. She eyed them both suspiciously, not fully convinced that their long held rivalry was at an end.

"I want a nice clean game, gentlemen," she instructed. "Now shake hands."

Both boys hands shot out and grasped in a firm handshake, this being the most contact they had had in days. A small jolt of pleasure ran through Harry as he felt Draco's thumb caress the back of his hand softly. Green eyes locked gaze with grey ones as the handshake went on a little longer than was strictly necessary.

A sharp blast from Madam Hooch's whistle brought them both back to the realisation of where they were and a faint pink tinged both their cheeks at the faint snickers that came from the Slytherin ranks. Oblivious as they were to the true nature of the two seekers' relationship, the Gryffindor team remained confused by this little byplay.

"Mount your brooms, please."

A final blast from the silver whistle and the Quaffle was released. Both teams took to the air with glee and almost instantly Gryffindor had gained possession. Demelza Robbins was heading towards the Slytherin goal, the Quaffle tucked safely under her arm. Harry heard the deafening cheer as she took aim and scored their first goal.

Feeling satisfied with the start his team had made, Harry soared higher. Soon both he and Draco were gliding over the game below, both trying their best to focus on the game at hand and not on each other.

At one point Harry caught a glimpse of gold out of the corner of his eye and made a sudden movement to go after it. It was only on turning that he realised that what he had thought was the snitch, was in fact with winter sun glinting off Draco's golden head.

Draco noticed Harry looking at him and was too busy shooting his boyfriend a seductive wink to notice the Bludger that was shooting in his direction at high speed. Harry was just on the verge of screaming out a warning, when Draco spotted it and managed to avoid injury by a hair's breadth. It wasn't just a pair of grey eyes that were shooting venom in the direction of Jimmy Peakes; green eyes were also burning their way into the back of the Gryffindor beater.

Trying his best to focus on the game, Harry couldn't help but allow his gaze to head in Draco's direction at times. After a while, it occurred to him that rather an unusually high amount of Bludgers seemed to be aimed Draco's way and Harry made up his mind there and then to have a firm word with his two beaters later.

Not that the Slytherin beaters were particularly shy. Harry found himself having to make several emergency manoeuvres to avoid their onslaught. They lacked the bloodlust of Crabbe and Goyle though, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if they weren't just the tiniest bit afraid of what Draco would do to them if they maimed his boyfriend.

Despite their initial monopoly of the game, Gryffindor soon found themselves on the wrong side of the score line. After some impressive flying by the Slytherin chasers, the score now sat at 50 – 10 in Slytherins favour.

As Harry began to panic slightly at the thought of losing, Natalie McDonald chose that moment to repay his faith in her by executing some rather spectacular pieces of flying which eventually led to the score equalling at 50 all.

Suddenly Harry spotted a tiny glint of gold in the distance below where Draco was currently hovering, and better still, the blond didn't seem to have noticed yet. Harry immediately dropped into a dive and sensed, rather than saw, Draco follow after him.

Not for the first time, Harry realised how grateful he was to his boyfriend for having got him a new Firebolt. There was no way that he would have been able to out fly Draco on the old Cleansweep he had been using.

Draco had already pulled level with him and they hurtled after the Snitch, neck and neck. Harry could hear Draco musing out loud about all the things he was going to have Harry do to him once Slytherin were victorious. Harry tried his best to ignore him, knowing that the blond was just trying to break his concentration. But despite his best efforts, there was a definite tightening in his pants.

Stretching his arm as far forward as he dared, Harry could feel the flutter of the Snitch against his palm. An extra burst of speed from his broom and his fingers closed tightly around it. He pulled his broom to a screeching halt, almost causing Draco to collide with him.

"What the hell?" The blond gasped. In reply Harry simply held up his hand for Draco to see that he had won. Harry was oblivious to the celebrations of the crowd and his team mates, he was too busy staring into Draco's stormy eyes and doing his best to resist the temptation to ravage the blond, there and then.

* * *

That evening Harry made his way down to the Slytherin dungeons. He entered the common room and looked round in vain for Draco. Pansy looked up as he entered and nodded in the direction of the boy's dormitories.

"He's waiting in there for you," she said, a smirk firmly in place.

Harry only nodded his thanks and hurriedly made his way to Draco's room. He wiped his palms on his trousers before entering the room. He wasn't quite sure why he was nervous but suspected it was something to do with the thought of having Draco as his willing slave for the evening. Harry had spent all afternoon entertaining various possibilities of what he could have his boyfriend do to him and was already half-hard with anticipation.

He slowly pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and then he realised that every available surface was covered with tiny candles which were flickering their light around the room. Draco had been lounging back on his bed when Harry entered, but at the sight of his boyfriend he got up and stretched out, his shirt riding up to reveal his pale taut stomach.

He walked towards Harry with an almost predatory gleam in his eye. As Harry opened his mouth to speak, a finger was laid against his lips.

"Hush," was all Draco said before the finger was replaced with his lips. Harry found that he suddenly couldn't think about anything except for the soft lips that were pressed against his own, the tongue that was seeking entrance to his mouth and the long fingers that were currently raking their way through his raven locks.

Suddenly the fingers moved and they were on the buttons to Harry's shirt, slowly undoing them. He moved his own hands to help, eager to speed up the process, but they were batted away.

"Let me," Draco murmured against his mouth. His hands slid the shirt from Harry's shoulders until it fell to the floor. Draco's hands smoothed against the planes of Harry's chest, pausing only to circle his dark nipples with a finger tip.

Harry's breath hitched as Draco trailed hot kisses down his neck, occasionally nipping at the sensitive flesh. Hands were on the waistband of his jeans now, unzipping him and slowly easing them down over his thighs. His boxers swiftly followed his trousers and before Harry had fully processed what was happening, he was stood naked in the middle of Draco's room with a raging hard on.

Draco smiled at the sight of Harry's erection and lightly traced one finger down its length.

"Is that for me?" he purred. Harry could only nod wordlessly as a hand wrapped round his shaft and squeezed gently.

Then just as suddenly the hand was gone and Harry let out a small whimper. Draco chuckled at this.

"All in good time," Draco said, before capturing Harry's mouth in a bruising kiss.

Soon Harry found himself laying spread naked on Draco's bed, with the still fully clothed blond standing over him. There was hunger in Draco's eyes as he raked them over Harry's naked form.

"Turn over," he instructed. Harry complied immediately, not sure this was exactly how he had expected the night to go, but far too turned on to argue. A tiny moan of pleasure escaped his lips at the delightful friction of his cock against the cool sheets, and he rutted slightly against them.

A light tap on his bare buttock stilled his movement. "Be still," and again Harry obeyed. He heard rather than saw Draco removing his clothes, but just the thought of the naked blond was enough make Harry throb with anticipation.

With his clothes removed, Draco got onto the bed and straddled Harry's hips. His own erection pressed against the crease of Harry's buttocks, causing him to bite hard on his lip to keep a groan from escaping them. Harry wriggled teasingly at this touch but Draco placed a hand on his back, effectively stilling his movements.

"Relax, I'm going to give you a massage," the blond said softly as his hands skated over Harry's tense shoulders. "You're so tense."

Warm oil trickled down Harry's spine and then Draco's hands began to work the fluid over his smooth skin. He started off at the top of his back, his fingers kneading the knotted muscles of Harry's shoulders, gradually working their way down his body.

Draco sat back for a moment and admired the way that the oil caused Harry's skin to gleam almost bronze in the candle light. Unable to resist, he leant down and traced the length of Harry's spine with the tip of his tongue.

"Fuck, Draco!" Harry exclaimed.

"Like that, did you?"

"I'm going to come if you keep on like this."

Draco leaned forward, his chest pressing against Harry's slick back until his lips were right next to the brunette's ear. "You won't come until I tell you, okay?"

Harry nodded fervently. Satisfied with his reply, Draco raised his body of Harry's but kept straddling him.

"Roll over. I want to see you." Draco had intended to tease Harry a lot more but he had underestimated just how turned on he would get by the whole process.

Harry rolled on his back and both boys let out gasps as their naked erections brushed against each other for the first time. Draco trailed hot kisses down the length of Harry's body until his mouth hovered just over Harry's erection, his breath ghosting over the swollen flesh.

"Draco, please," Harry whined.

"Please what? What do you want me to do?"

A slight thrust of Harry's hips brought a smile to the Draco's face as he watched that beautiful cock bob ever closer to his lips.

"Do you want me to suck you, Harry? Is that what you want?" He bent his head and lightly flicked the tip of his tongue over the head of his boyfriend's cock, revelling in the taste of his pre-cum.

"Yes," Harry begged. "I want you to suck me; I want your mouth on my cock."

Draco grinned at this. "All you had to do was ask," he said before engulfing Harry's cock in one smooth motion. Harry cried out loud in pleasure as he felt his cock slide down Draco's throat and he was unable to stop himself from thrusting upwards into the warm cavern of his boyfriend's mouth.

Draco made no effort to still his thrusts; he rather enjoyed the sensation of a thick cock deep in his throat, especially when it was Harry's. He pulled back though and let Harry's cock slip from his mouth with a pop

Harry let out a faint whimper at this loss of contact but Draco's lips were quickly wrapped around his shaft again. He looked down and almost came right then at the sight of Draco looking so wanton. His blond hair loose against Harry's tanned thighs, a thick cock sliding between his pink, fleshy lips.

Harry gasped as he felt Draco's fingers slide between his legs and into the cleft of his arse. He squirmed slightly as they began to massage his puckered opening.

"Relax," Draco whispered. "It will feel good, I promise."

Harry took a deep breath and tried his best to relax. It really wasn't too hard to do as Draco's tongue licked the underside of his cock, before taking him into his mouth again. One finger breached the tight ring of muscle and began to thrust slowly before being joined quickly by a second. Harry found himself pushing down on them, feeling so full and yet wanting more.

Draco timed the thrusts of his slick fingers with the rhythm his mouth had going on Harry's cock. When he crooked his fingers and found Harry's prostate, the brunette cried out loudly in pleasure, his body arching off the bed.

"Fuck! Do that again, please."

Draco used his free hand to stroke Harry's cock as he pulled back and watched his fingers pump into his boyfriend's virgin hole. Just the thought of what it would be like to thrust in there with his own cock almost made Draco come on the spot.

"You look so hot like this," he purred before returning his attention to Harry's straining cock. He swirled his tongue over the head and slowly took the whole length into his mouth, ruthlessly massaging Harry's prostate with his thrusting fingers.

Suddenly Harry's hands were in Draco's hair, holding on tight to his head. His hips began to arch more forcefully off the bed and keening cries escaped his lips.

"Draco," he gasped. "I'm gonna..."

Harry didn't have time to finish his sentence before his cock exploded in the blond's mouth, his hot seed shooting down Draco's throat.

Draco continued to suck at Harry's softening cock until he was sure he had drained every last drop of come. He then let it slip from between his lips and sat back smiling at his sated boyfriend.

"Fuck," Harry groaned. "That thing you did with your fingers was amazing. I though I was going to pass out."

Draco chucked and began to move up the bed until he was once again straddling Harry's hips. Green eyes widened as they watched Draco slowly fist his own straining erection. Harry wriggled, trying to move, his arms reaching forward to touch Draco.

"Don't," Draco growled. "Just watch me."

And watch Harry did. It was the first time he had ever seen another boy wank and he was fascinated. The fact that it was Draco doing the wanking just made it all the more erotic. He watched as Draco's hand lovingly stroked his shaft, pulling his foreskin back and smoothing his leaking pre-cum down his thick cock.

The thrusts became faster and Draco's body was arching up to meet each stroke. Harry wasn't sure which he wanted to watch most, Draco's hand on his cock, or his boyfriends face, flushed with pleasure. The blond truly looked beautiful like this and Harry couldn't tear his eyes away.

One final hard jerk on his cock and Draco was shouting his release, white pearls of come spurting over Harry's naked torso. Draco milked the last of his seed from his now limp cock and looked down at his boyfriend, a smirk on his face.

"Do you know how hot you look like that, covered in my come? I could tie you to this bed and never let you go."

Harry only smiled and held out his hand to pull Draco in close. "Less talking, more ..." He never did get to finish that sentence as his mouth was covered with Draco's lips and he found himself receiving the tenderest kiss he had ever had. It was so full of feeling and emotion that Harry really thought he might cry from the intensity of it all.

When Draco finally ended the kiss and lay his head to rest on Harry's shoulder, it was all the dark-haired boy could do to keep from declaring his undying love right then. Instead he waited and when the shift in the blond's breathing indicated that he was asleep, Harry quickly cast a Cleaning Charm on them both, pulled the covers over their naked bodies and wrapped his arms possessively around Draco's warm body.

"I love you," he whispered and pressed a light kiss to the blond's forehead, before snuggling closer to him and falling asleep also.


	36. Christmas Fairy

The remainder of November passed relatively peacefully, much to Harry's relief. The only event that was of any note was Hufflepuff's surprise victory over Ravenclaw at Quidditch. Harry and Draco had attended the match together, to check out the opposition they had claimed. Though Pansy rather suspected it had just been an excuse for them to squash together with hands held discreetly under the big 'Slytherin-green' blanket that Draco had procured for the occasion.

All remained quiet on the 'Ginny front'. She still appeared subdued from Professor McGonagall's harsh words and her punishment. Not that she showed any signs of relenting and apologising to Pansy. Something the Slytherin girl was quite relieved about.

Ginny chose instead to just ignore people. Harry was first on the list for obvious reasons, not that he minded. He was just relieved that he didn't have to deal with her hysterics any longer. But he was still mildly annoyed by the fact that she was acting the injured party.

If fact, Ginny seemed to be pulling away from all of her old friends. Harry noticed, with some relief that she seemed to be spending quite a bit of time with Wayne Hopkins, a Hufflepuff boy from his own year. Harry just hoped that this was a sign that she was moving on and had accepted the end of their relationship finally. They were regularly seen together outside of lessons, usually with Dennis Creevey tagging along like a faithful puppy

Ron and Hermione also came in for the silent treatment. Hermione because she had dared to report Ginny, and Ron because he hadn't taken his sister's side, like she thought he should. Hermione only shrugged it off. She had seen a new side to Ginny and it was one she didn't like. The Head Girl figured she would be doing the girl no favours by allowing her to get away with such behaviour.

Ron, for his part, was just confused by the whole thing. Having grown up surrounded by older brothers, he was quite oblivious when it came to female manipulation – something that Ginny excelled at. Ginny's guilt trips went completely over his head and he just let his youngest sibling get on with it. He figured that even if no one else managed it, then their mother would knock some sense into the girl come the holidays.

Some positives had arisen from this situation. Following the Halloween dance, Hermione had been startled out of her apathy towards inter-house relations and just as Professor McGonagall had asked Harry to do, the Head Girl decided to lead by example.

Her first course of action was to integrate the prefects. For although they held group meetings, any prefect duties were shared between representatives of the same house. This had to end, Hermione decided, and she led the way by pairing herself up with Blaise. A fact that did not go down well with Ron, until Ernie McMillan discreetly pointed out that Blaise was in fact gay.

Hermione also began to make a conscious effort to speak with Slytherins, especially those from her own year. It struck her as ridiculous that these were students that she had gone side by side through school with for seven years, and yet they were relative strangers to one another still.

She even managed to cause minor uproar in the Great Hall one evening when, instead of taking her usual seat at the Gryffindor table, she followed Harry to the far side of the room and slid into a seat at the side of him. Spotting the looks of pure shock on the surrounding Slytherins, she only looked up with an innocent expression and smiled at a gaping Harry.

"What? I just wanted to see what the view was like from this side of the room."

The broad grin that spread over Harry's face was reward enough for her, as was the tentative smile that she received from Pansy. Blaise and Millicent chatted easily to her, being familiar with her from prefect meetings, and Pansy made the odd comment. After a polite hello, Draco had fallen silent and taken to watching suspiciously. Years spent always having an ulterior motive for every action led Draco to always look for the same in others.

By the end of the meal however, he had relaxed sufficiently and accepted that this was a Gryffindor he was dealing with, not a Slytherin, and as such realised that it was a transparent gesture with no sinister purpose. And besides, the look of outrage on Ron's face was more than enough to put Draco in a good mood.

Hermione had already had strong words with her boyfriend regarding his attitude towards the Slytherins. He had gone very red in the face, shouted quite a lot and refused point blank to have anything to do with the plan. In the end, however, Ron had fallen in with his girlfriend's wishes, and whilst he did not actively seek out their company, he managed to maintain a neutral civility when dealing with members of that house.

Harry was overjoyed at the reawakening of his friendship with Hermione. He knew better than most just how difficult it was to put seven years of animosity to one side and start afresh. Hermione, as a Muggle-born, had suffered particularly savage comments at the hands of the very people she was now attempting to befriend. And although Ron was by no means as forward as his girlfriend in overtures towards the Slytherins, Harry knew just how great of an effort it took on his part to simply be civil to Draco. This was something Harry had barely dared to hope for as little as a few weeks ago.

Draco was even more sceptical when it came to 'the Weasel'. The depth of bad feeling between the two boys had run much deeper than the rivalry between him and Harry. Draco knew that Ron didn't like him and in all honesty the feeling was mutual. But if the Gryffindor was going to make the effort then he was more than willing to step up to the plate himself. Besides, anything that put that beautiful smile of Harry's face was worth the sacrifice.

The only downside of all this for Harry was that time spent with Ron and Hermione was time he couldn't spend being close to Draco. After spending so much time with the Slytherins, who both knew of and accepted his relationship with their housemate, it was hard to remember to censor his behaviour around his old friends. On more than one occasion Harry had gone to touch his boyfriend only to catch himself just in time.

He knew that Draco was frustrated with it, especially as the blond was possibly the most tactile person Harry had ever met. Harry, himself, hated the situation. He felt guilty about lying to his friends, but while they were still at the fragile stage of rebuilding their relationship, Harry didn't dare risk telling them the truth.

He was pretty sure that Hermione would be okay with it. It was really Ron's reaction that he feared. In all honesty he didn't think that either of them would be that bothered to learn that he was gay. They would probably accept it a damn sight easier than he had. Harry knew that any problems would stem, not from his sexuality, but from the fact that he was with Draco.

Harry figured if he could just hold off on telling them the truth for just a little while longer, then he could let his friends get better used to the 'new Draco'. Then he would stand more of a chance of still being able to call them friends afterwards.As November came to an end and the first snows of winter came to Hogwarts, talk inevitably turned to Christmas. Harry began to panic early about what to buy for Draco. After all, he thought glumly, what do you get for the boy who already has just about everything he could ever want.

At the barest mention of Christmas, Draco's eyes would light up with an almost childlike glee. Harry was determined that his present would put a similar expression on his boyfriend's face come Christmas morning. His only regret was that he would not get to see this. That and the fact he hadn't got a clue what to get yet.

With the exception of Draco's gift, Harry thought about the coming festive season as little as possible and would go noticeably quiet whenever the topic came up.

He hadn't mentioned it to Ron yet, or dared inform Mrs Weasley, but Harry had decided to forgo his usual Weasley Christmas. He didn't doubt that he would be welcome, but the thought of spending two weeks in such close proximity to Ginny was more than Harry could stomach.

He still thought of the Weasley's as close to family and the last thing he wanted was to ruin their celebrations with the air of tension that his presence would undoubtedly bring. Especially as there would already be the strain of it being their first Christmas without Fred.

It was times like this that brought home to Harry how truly alone in the world he was. The only actual family he had left were the Dursleys, and he had not seen or spoken to them since the day they had gone into hiding. He knew that they were now safely back in Privet Drive, but the idea that he would be welcomed there for the holidays was laughable.

But as much as Harry wished that it didn't, it still hurt him on some level to think about how little they cared about him.

His options were limited and consisted of remaining at school or spending two weeks alone in Grimmauld Place with no one but Kreacher for company. As bleak a prospect as it was, Harry opted for the latter. He figured that he would at least be free to come and go as he pleased and there was a chance that he may still be able to see Draco. If he remained at Hogwarts, it would be two long weeks without his boyfriend and Harry wasn't sure he could go that long without seeing the blond.

He made up his mind to speak with Draco about it as soon as possible. Maybe he could invite him to spend New Year at Grimmauld place. The thought of the two of them being completely alone (if one didn't count Kreacher – which Harry didn't) was exciting and Harry couldn't help but think that it might be the perfect opportunity to tell Draco how he felt and take the final step in their physical relationship.

Harry also thought that he could use the time to visit his Godson. Mindful of the responsibilities that came with the position, Harry was determined that Teddy Lupin would grow up knowing his Godfather, an opportunity that he had been denied himself.

Although Andromeda Tonks had taken on the task of raising the boy, Harry wanted to be a constant presence in his life. And while he would never attempt to replace Remus in his son's affections, Harry, more than most knew just how important having a father figure could be when growing up. Sirius had spent two years in his life, and yet he meant as much to Harry as the parents he never got the chance to know did.

Plus, he thought regretfully, with the whole being gay thing, it would likely be as close as he would ever come to having a child of his own.

Draco was also upset at the prospect of not seeing Harry for two weeks. His initial thought had been to invite Harry to spend the holidays with him and his mother. But he knew how close Harry was to the Weasley family and didn't want to put him in the awkward position of having to choose. Plus, he also had a nagging fear that Harry would be horrified at the idea of spending his Christmas in a place he had last seen as a prisoner of Death Eaters.

What had happened during the time that Harry was held captive at Malfoy Manor was a subject they hadn't really broached yet and Draco was reluctant to remind his boyfriend of it.

It would be difficult for him to visit Harry. It would raise too many questions, and besides, Draco hardly though he would be welcomed by the Weasleys. Not after what had happened to their eldest son as a result of his actions.

His brooding did not go unnoticed and eventually Pansy, unable to bear it any longer, cornered him one night in the common room.

Draco was sat in his usual seat, which had been drawn closer to the fire in an effort to stave off the winter chill that was permeating the dungeon walls. Pansy observed him for a few moments, watching as he stared unseeing at his unfinished Potions homework. She walked over and plopped herself down into his lap, causing books to slide to the floor.

Draco looked up at her with a scowl.

"What the fuck, Pansy?"

Pansy ignored the glare and smiled sweetly in return. "What's up, Draco?"

"Right now there's nothing that a well aimed Unforgivable wouldn't cure. Get off me, you're squashing my work."

Pansy tugged the sheet of parchment out from underneath her and smoothed it. "There. Good as new."

Draco snatched it from her hand. "Wonderful. Now if you would just get the hell off me."

"Nuh uh," Pansy admonished. "Not until you tell me what's bugging you. Other than me," she added swiftly, predicting Draco's reply before even before he gave it.

Draco's mouth snapped shut again and he took refuge in sulking. Pansy only smiled wider at him and lightly flicked his bottom lip with her finger tip.

"Stop sulking."

Draco batted her hand away but swiftly changed his expression to his patented 'Malfoy glare'. It was completely wasted on his friend who had known him for far too long to be intimidated by a look that could reduce first years to gibbering wrecks.

"C'mon, Drakie, fess up," she cajoled. "You've been brooding for days and I'm staying put till you tell me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied stubbornly.

"You can't fool me. I know you too well. This time of year you're usually bouncing off the walls like the Christmas fairy. But for some reason you're doing a more than passable impression of the Grinch."

Draco sneered slightly at this. "Must you use Muggle references? It's so plebeian."

Pansy only shrugged in reply. "If it's so plebeian, how come you understood it?" Without waiting for an answer, she shook her head and continued. "I'm not going to argue with you. So quit stalling and tell me what's wrong."

Knowing that Pansy was probably the stubbornest female he knew, outside of his mother, Draco sighed and gave in.

"Harry," was all that he said, like that would explain everything.

Pansy frowned, "Harry?" she repeated and Draco nodded in confirmation.

"What about Harry? Are you stressing about what to get him for Christmas? Is that it?"

Draco only rolled his eyes. "Please, Pansy. You and I both know that I am excellent when it comes to buying presents. I already have the perfect gift planned for Harry."

"Well, what then? Have you two had an argument or something?" Frustration was colouring Pansy's tone now.

Draco shook his head and mumbled something in reply. Catching only part of what he said, Pansy smiled.

"Sorry, what was that you said? I didn't quite catch it."

She received a mulish look from her friend. "I said, I can't go two whole weeks without seeing Harry. I'll miss him too much."

Pansy chuckled and lightly ruffled his hair. "Well of course you will. But who says you won't see him over the holidays?"

"Well, seeing as how he always spends them with the Weasels and I hardly think that they are going to be inviting me over for a visit."

"He's staying at the Weasley's? I wouldn't have thought he would want to go there at the moment. Not with things how they are between him and the She-Weasel."

Draco smiled at Pansy's adoption of his nickname for Ginny. "He told me he always spends his holidays with them."

"But has he actually said that's where he's going?" Pansy persisted."Well, no. But ..."

"So he might not be," Pansy interrupted. "Why don't you ask him to spend it at the Manor with us?"

Draco shook his head sadly. "I don't want to make it awkward for him. Merlin knows why, but Harry considers them like family and I don't want to put him in the position of having to choose."

"Besides," he continued, seeing Pansy was about to speak. "What if he said no? The last time he was at the Manor, my family were planning to hand him over to Voldemort and torturing his best friend. Hardly fond memories that would make him want to return, are they?"

"No, I guess not," Pansy admitted reluctantly. "But, Draco, we've both done and said some awful things to Harry over the years."

"Thanks for the reminder. Your point is what exactly?"

"I just mean, that even with all that history between us, he still befriended us. If he can get past all that then I'm sure he wouldn't let a few bad memories get in the way of spending Christmas with you."

Seeing the hopeful look dawning in her friend's eyes, Pansy continued. "I think you're wrong about him going to the Weasleys. He hasn't said anything about it. In fact, he goes really quiet when anyone mentions Christmas. I'll just speak to him about it."

Draco began to protest but he was waved aside. "I won't say anything about him coming to the Manor. I'll just get him to tell me where he's planning to go. And if I find out that he's not going Weaselling, then you have to ask him."

"I guess I could," Draco agreed uncertainly.

"You will," Pansy said firmly. "There is no way that I am spending two weeks putting up with your sulks. Now cheer up and get into the festive spirit."

Pansy gave the pouting boy a quick kiss on the nose and smiled as he wrinkled it up in disgust, before sliding off his knee.

"Where are you going?" Grey eyes followed her as she walked across the room.

"Library. I was supposed to meet Harry there ten minutes ago."

Draco spotted the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Pansy," he said warningly.

"Don't worry, Drakie. I'll be discreet."

Draco merely arched an eyebrow at this, indicating just how unlikely he thought that possibility was. He watched as his friend huffed at the insinuation and turned to the door.

"Oh, Pansy?" Draco called sweetly. He watched as she stopped at the door and turned back to face him.

"What?"

"If you ever call me a fairy again, you and I are going to have a confrontation." The humour in his voice took away from the threat of Draco's words and Pansy merely grinned at him before disappearing from view.

Pansy hurried up to the Library, mindful of how late she was. Harry was already settled at one of the tables, sucking thoughtfully on the end of his quill, balled up parchment littering the desktop.

"Sorry I'm late," she offered breathlessly, sliding into the seat opposite.

"Problems?" Harry asked in concern, taking in her flushed appearance.

"No. Just Draco having one of his mini crises"

Harry chuckled, having himself been witness to many of his boyfriend's dramatic interludes. "What was it this time? Someone mess with the hair?"

He was rewarded with a grin from the Slytherin girl. "So what are you up to?"

Harry noticed that Pansy hadn't answered his question, but decided to let it go. He ran his hand through his hair distractedly and, judging from the way it was sticking up all over the place, Pansy assumed it wasn't for the first time that evening.

"I'm trying to write a letter," he explained.

"Having a little trouble?" Pansy enquired, indicated the many discarded bits of parchment with a wave of her hand.

Harry smiled wryly, and then looked round nervously before answering.

"I'm trying to find a way to tell Mrs Weasley that I'm not going to the Burrow for Christmas this year. I don't want to offend her or seem ungrateful, but with the way things are with Ginny ..." Harry trailed off here and gave a helpless shrug.

Pansy nodded in understanding. "So where are you going then?" she questioned, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Harry shrugged again. "I have a house in London. I figured I would go there. I'll probably go visit my Godson at some point as well. I've just written to his Grandmother to see if it's okay. Other than that, it will be just me and a very cranky house-elf." Harry tried his best to keep the self-pity out of his voice but it crept in regardless. He was surprised when he looked up and found Pansy grinning at him widely.

"I'm glad the idea of me spending Christmas alone is so amusing to you." For the life of him, Harry couldn't help snapping.

"What? No, Harry, that's not it at all. It's just...I remembered I have to be somewhere." Pansy began bundling her books together.

"What, now? You've only just got here." Harry looked more than a little put out.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, but I really have to go. I'll see you at breakfast, yes?"

Harry barely had time to nod his agreement before Pansy was gone. Shaking his head in confusion, he turned reluctantly back to the letter that he just knew would get him a howler in return.

Harry's confusion only increased the next morning. Draco was acting very strange throughout breakfast. He hardly spoke and couldn't look Harry in the eye. He didn't seem to be angry but that didn't stop Harry from racking his brains for some offence he might have unwittingly committed.

The confusing behaviour continued throughout their lessons. In Potions, Draco had actually knocked his cauldron over when the Gryffindor had spoken to him.

Pansy pleaded ignorance when questioned, but Harry could tell she knew more than she was letting on. At least the amused glint in her eyes comforted him that it was nothing serious. In the end he just decided to ignore his boyfriend's skittish behaviour, figuring that Draco would tell him when he was ready.

It was almost bedtime before Draco worked up the courage to tell Harry what was on his mind. They had spent a quiet evening in the Slytherin common room, with Pansy shooting meaningful looks at the blond constantly.

When Harry got up to head back to Gryffindor tower, Draco felt a sharp dig in his side and found Pansy glaring at him fiercely. Taking the hint, he walked to the door with Harry and they both stepped outside into the cool air of the dungeons.

Spotting the look on his boyfriend's face, Harry forgot all about his resolution to let Draco tell him in his own time. Reaching out, he took the blond's hands in his and held them tightly.

"Draco, are you okay? You've been really quiet all day. Have I done something to upset you?"

Grey eyes widened in alarm at this and Harry soon found himself with an armful of Slytherin.

"No, Harry. You haven't done anything wrong. I'm sorry if I made you think that."

Soft kisses were trailed up the side of his neck and Harry couldn't suppress the shiver of excitement that ran through him. He didn't allow himself to be distracted, however. He pulled back from the embrace and looked at Draco, concern written all over his face.

"Then what is it, Dray? If you tell me, maybe I can help."

Draco began to fidget and wouldn't meet Harry's gaze, which served to make the Gryffindor nervous. He reached out and cupped Draco's chin with his hand, tilting his head so that their eyes met.

"Tell me, please." Harry pleaded.

Feeling guilty now for worrying his boyfriend, Draco realised there was nothing for it but to tell. Besides, not even a Malfoy was stupid enough to risk the wrath of Pansy Parkinson when roused.

"Pansy said that you weren't going to the Weasel's for Christmas," he began, trying to look away. Harry was having none of it and kept a firm hold of Draco's face.

"That's true," he said, nodding.

"Well I just wondered if you...I mean you don't have to...I'm sure you have better things..."

"Draco," Harry interrupted the painful babbling. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Draco nodded and swallowed deeply. Harry briefly captured his lips in a soft kiss.

"I wanted to ask you to spend the holidays with me."

Draco let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"At the Manor?" Harry questioned, and Draco's heart dropped as the hand cupping his face fell away.

He nodded wordlessly and searched Harry's face to gauge his reaction. There was nothing. Harry didn't look happy or angry or anything really. When finally he opened his mouth to speak, Draco impulsively pressed a finger to his lips.

"Don't give me your answer now," he said, and Harry didn't miss the faint quaver in his voice.

"I know there's a lot of reasons for you to say no, and really only one reason for you to say yes. But just promise me you'll at least think about it. I promise I won't be angry if you say no after that."

Harry nodded mutely and was rewarded with kiss. Just as he allowed himself to relax into it, it was over and Draco was slipping through the wall back into his common room. Shaking his head, a small smile playing about his lips, Harry headed back up to his dormitory. He had some serious thinking to do.


	37. You Will Come, Won't You?

Harry had still not made his decision by the time he reluctantly dragged himself out of bed the next morning. He had slept fitfully, and had been plagued by bad dreams. They were not as horrifying as the nightmares he was used to but they were unpleasant nonetheless.

He had spent the night reliving his last visit to Malfoy manor, and every time Harry woke in a cold sweat, he could still hear Hermione's screams as she was tortured by Bellatrix. It had been the first time since his pact with Pansy that he had felt the overwhelming urge to cut, and it took all of his self-control to resist.

Just when he thought he had made his mind up that there was no possible way he could spend Christmas in that place, Harry would remember Draco's nervous expression as he had asked. Harry wasn't sure what scared him the most, returning to the site of his nightmares, or being the one responsible for hurting his boyfriend.

Draco had said he would understand if he said no and Harry believed him. But there was a world of difference between understanding something and being happy about it

What he really needed, Harry decided, was to talk to someone about it. Someone who could help him get things in perspective.

Ron and Hermione were out for obvious reasons. Pansy had obviously been encouraging Draco to ask him, which made her opinions on the matter very clear and hardly unbiased. What he needed was someone calm and level headed, who wouldn't judge.

For the first time in a while, Harry ached for Remus. Although Sirius had been his Godfather and Harry had loved him dearly, he had almost felt like more of an older brother than a father figure. With Remus, Harry had just known he could talk to him about anything. It was the kind of unconditional love that one usually got from parents.

Harry shook off his maudlin thoughts quickly. He didn't have time to waste dwelling on the past. It was almost breakfast time and he still didn't have an answer for Draco. Neville startled him out of his thoughts.

"You okay, Harry?"

"What? Oh yeah, I'm fine, Nev."

Neville looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and then walked over and perched on the edge of Harry's bed.

"Are you sure? You look kind of troubled about something." Neville paused thoughtfully before adding. "Are things okay with Draco? You two seemed really quiet last night. You haven't had a row or something?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that. It's just..."

Neville watched nervously as Harry got up off the bed and began to pace distractedly across the room.

"It's just what?"

Harry stopped pacing momentarily and turned to face his friend. "He's asked me to spend the holidays at his house."

"Oh. And that's bad because?"

"Well, it's not really, I suppose." Harry rubbed at his eyes. "At least, it shouldn't be."

"So why is it then?" Neville pressed.

Harry looked at the other boy as if he were all kinds of idiots. "Just the fact that the last time I was at his house, his family were busy trying to turn me over to Voldemort."

"And what? You thing they are going to do it again?"

Harry could feel his patience wearing thin. Was Neville being deliberately stupid?

"Of course not," he snapped. "Voldemort's dead. Besides, I trust Draco."

"Then I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't see what the problem is. You came back to Hogwarts, after everything that happened here. If you can do that, I'm sure you can spend a couple of weeks at Draco's house."

"It's not the same," was Harry's stubborn reply. "Just forget I said anything. Come on, we'll be late for breakfast."

Harry headed to the door without checking to see if Neville was following. Just as he reached out to grab the door handle, his friend spoke again.

"Do you love him?"

Harry spun round, shocked at this question. "That's none of your business," he snapped.

Neville held up a hand at this, as if to ward off the onset of Harry's infamous temper. "Okay, don't answer that. Just let me tell you how I see it."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded at his friend, indicating for him to continue.

"I think you do love him. I think you both love each other very much." A quick look at Harry's face indicated a neutral expression, so Neville ploughed on.

"Draco's done and said a lot of bad things to us all over the years, but mainly to you. But somehow you managed to see past and fall in love with him."

"What's your point, Neville?" Harry asked irritably.

"Just this. You fell for Draco knowing exactly who he was and what he'd done. If you want to have any kind of future with him then you are going to have to deal with his family and any associated bad memories. Besides, what's worse? Two weeks at Malfoy manor with a few uncomfortable memories, or two weeks on your own with no Draco?"

Harry nodded. "Thanks for that, Nev. You're right. I should just stop being a baby about it."

"That wasn't what I was saying," Neville protested, but Harry dismissed his words with a wave of his hand.

"Maybe not, but it's what I'm doing. This place has much worse memories for me than Draco's house does. If I give in to this, then it's like I'm giving Voldemort power over my life, even after he's dead."

"I guess so." Neville nodded slowly. "But, Harry, it's still a natural reaction to have. Don't feel bad about it."

"I don't, not really. But I'm not being fair to Draco. I told him that the past didn't matter, that it was the future that counted. But how can we have a future if I'm only willing to accept parts of his life? Thanks for this, Neville. You've been a big help."

"No problem, mate. Just glad I could help. Now come on, let's go eat."

As he made his way down to breakfast, Harry felt like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He still hadn't made his final decision about where to spend the holidays, but he was that much nearer, thanks to his chat with Neville.

As he entered the Great Hall, his eyes automatically scanned the Slytherin table for a familiar golden head. As his gaze fell on Draco, he saw that his boyfriend was already looking at him, a tentative smile on his face. Harry nodded and grinned in return before heading to the Gryffindor table with Neville.

He barely had time to start his bowl of steaming porridge, before a stately-looking Eagle Owl swooped down and dropped a parchment in front of him. Recognising the Owl, Harry picked up the letter and then looked questioningly across the hall at his boyfriend, wondering why on earth he was writing to him.

Draco's grey eyes were wide in surprise, indicating he knew no more than Harry about what was going on. If Harry had chosen to look a little to the left, he would have noticed a very smug expression on Pansy Parkinson's face.

His curiosity aroused, Harry swiftly tore into the parchment. He scanned to the bottom to see who was writing to him and his chin almost hit the table in shock.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I am informed that my son intends to invite you to spend the holidays at our home. I understand how past events may leaveyou disinclined to accept the invitation, but I would ask that you do not penalise Draco for the actions of his family._

_I realise that you will have been left with unpleasant memories of our home, but if you will allow it, I should very much like the opportunity to help create happier ones._

_It may assist you in your decision to know that my sister and her grandson will be joining us for Christmas also. We were inspired by the example that you and Draco set and have now reconciled our differences. Whilst we are not yet as close as sisters should be, I believe that will come with time._

_Family is too precious to turn your back on, I understand that now. _

_Sadly it has been some years since the manor has seen a true family Christmas and I hope to correct that this year. With your relationship to both my son and my nephew, I consider you to be a part of that family; it is inconceivable to me that we should celebrate without you._

_I will say no more on the subject; save to ask that you give our invitation serious consideration, and to assure you that there will be no ill feeling if you decline._

_Yours,_

_Narcissa Malfoy._

If Harry's eyes had got any wider they would have been in danger of falling out. He reread the letter several times before he could quite process exactly what it said and couldn't help but notice that his hands trembled slightly as he held the parchment.

Despite outwardly being eighteen years old, deep inside Harry there was still a lonely little boy, starved of love and affection, just aching for acceptance. The idea that Narcissa would not only tolerate him for Draco's sake, but actually wanted him there, considered him part of their family, brought a lump to Harry's throat.

The feeling of being wanted caused a wave of emotion to overwhelm Harry and tears began to prickle at his eyes. Not wanting to have to answer the questions that his reaction would inevitably raise, Harry murmured his excuses to Neville and, clutching the letter tightly, he left the Great Hall.

Harry had barely crossed the Entrance Hall before Draco was hot on his heels.

"Harry!"

Harry came to a hold and turned to see Draco hurrying towards him. He blinked forcefully, trying to banish the threat of tears before the blond noticed them.

Draco came skidding to a halt and looked worriedly into Harry's face.

"Are you okay?"

A quick look at Harry's face answered Draco's question. He could tell that his boyfriend was struggling to master his emotions, so he took hold of Harry's hand and pulled him into the nearest empty classroom. Harry allowed himself to be manoeuvred without protest and as Draco closed the door behind them, he perched on the top of one of the desks.

"You're mum sent me a letter," Harry stated.

Draco walked over to him quickly, concern evident on his face. What the hell had his mother said to make Harry look like this?

"What did it say? If she's upset you, I'll..."

"No, it's nothing like that," Harry shook his head forcefully. "Here, read it." He thrust the letter into Draco's hands and sat back watching his boyfriend's face as he read the missive.

As Harry's had before him, Draco's eyes widened visibly as he read his mother's letter. When he had finally finished, he placed a tentative hand on Harry's arm.

"I'm sorry, Harry. She had no right to pressure you like this. I swear I didn't say anything to her, it must have been Pansy. That girl never could keep her nose out of things."

"It's okay. I don't mind. "

"So you're not upset by it then?" Draco perched next to Harry on the desk and turned worried eyes to him

Harry slid a hand over and took hold of Draco's, lacing their fingers together. "No, I'm not upset. I was just...well, I was being silly."

Draco took his free hand and raised it to Harry's face. Cupping his cheek, he gently turned his face so that he could stare into those expressive green eyes.

"Harry, you said to me last night that I could tell you anything. Well, the same is true in reverse. Tell me what you're thinking, I promise I won't think it's silly."

Harry lowered his head until it was resting on Draco's shoulder and let out a soft sigh. He already had only a fragile grip on his emotions and wasn't sure he could hold onto it if he continued to look into those grey pools of concern.

"I don't really know if I can explain it," Harry began uncertainly. "It's kind of hard to put into words."

Draco tilted his head until his cheek was resting on Harry's unruly mop of hair and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

"It was just what your mum said in the letter about considering me part of the family. I've never really had a proper family. I barely remember my parents and the Dursleys were worse than strangers to me. Then there was the Weasleys..."

Draco snorted in something like disgust at this and received a sharp nudge from Harry in return"Be nice. The Weasleys were the closest thing to family I had for years. And then with everything that happened this year with Ginny, and Ron not speaking to me, it felt like I was on my own again. I mean, I know I had you but I never looked at our relationship as me being part of a family, you know?"

Harry felt, rather than saw Draco nod in understanding. Thus encouraged, he continued.

"Before you asked me to spend the holidays with you, I was going to spend them by myself. I realised for the first time how truly alone I am. And then you asked me and I wasn't sure if it was just pity because Pansy had told you what I said."

"No!" Draco sat up at this and placing his hands on Harry's shoulders, turned his boyfriend to face him fully. "I invited you, because what I want more than anything is for us to be together. It has nothing to do with pity, and everything to do with the fact that I can't imagine spending two days without you, never mind two weeks."

"I knew I was being irrational when I thought it," Harry admitted.

"And you're not alone. You have me, and I don't think you could get rid of Pansy if you tried. Mother can't wait to meet you properly. Believe it or not, she's probably more nervous about the prospect than you are." Draco stopped here and turned beseeching eyes on his boyfriend. "You will come, won't you? It's true, what mother said. It wouldn't be right without you there."

Harry quickly wrapped his arms around Draco tightly and buried his face in the crook of the blond's neck. All he could manage was a muffled, "Yes."

Draco wisely said nothing when he felt hot tears against his skin. He just sat and held Harry, rubbing soothing patterns on his back and rocking slightly. He was so happy that Harry had said yes, that he struggling to contain his own emotions.

After a few minutes, Harry pulled away from Draco's embrace, his hands scrubbing fiercely at his eyes.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to cry on you like a big baby."

Draco kissed him to stop further protests. "I like it," he stated firmly. "I mean, I don't like that you were crying. But I like being the one to comfort you when you're upset."

He reached over and brushed his thumbs under Harry's eyes, wiping away the last traces of tears. "We'd better get going. We only have a couple of minutes before we have to be in Defence."

Draco hopped off the table and turned round to hold his hand out to Harry. Tucking his hand in his boyfriend's, Harry allowed a small smile to light up his face. "I don't know why you're in such a hurry to get to that class," Harry said, a teasing edge to his voice. "You know we're practising duelling today, and I always kick your arse!"

Draco turned an outraged face to Harry and gave him a playful smack. "Every time you're mean to me between now and Christmas, is one less present that I'm getting you."

"Does that mean I have to get you a gift?" Harry enquired in innocent tones, much to Draco's horror.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask that, Potter."

Harry grinned to himself and followed his boyfriend out of the room. The smile was swiftly removed from his face when a horrible thought struck him. It had been giving him enough of a headache thinking what to buy for Draco, but now he was spending Christmas at the manor, he had not one, but two Malfoys to buy for!


	38. Your Little Slut

**Author Note: This chapter contains some fairly explicit boy/boy action. If your offended by such things, don't read it!! (But if you are, I wonder why you're reading this story anyway!!**

* * *

Once he had made his mind up, Harry found that he felt surprisingly relaxed about his decision to spend Christmas at Malfoy manor. Draco's happiness with his choice was plain for all to see. It was written all over the blond's face every time the subject came up. And Harry was already feeling a little overwhelmed by at the sheer number of plans that Draco was making for their holiday.

Pansy, too, was overjoyed at the news, and confided to Harry her relief at not being the only 'non Malfoy' at what was ostensibly a family gathering. The Slytherin girl also confessed that, in large part, her motivation for encouraging Draco to invite him had stemmed from her nervousness about making it through the festive season unscathed, without Harry's moral support.

For although Pansy had known Draco since childhood and had quite a close relationship with Narcissa, none of this could override the sense of loss she felt at spending Christmas without either of her parents.

The year before had been hard enough to bear, coming so soon after the death of her mother. But she had been forced to remain at school that time (what with Voldemort not offering his Death Eaters parental leave.) Being around other students who, for one reason or another, were without their parents too, had somehow cushioned her sense of loss.

But she feared that spending this year in such a family environment would only reinforce how alone she felt.

Try as he would, this was something Draco could not relate to, having never lost anyone that close to him. His mother would be there to watch him open presents Christmas morning and although his father was in Azkaban, he was still very much alive.

Draco was now able to write to, and receive letters from, his father. There was even talk of the Ministry allowing him and Narcissa a pre-Christmas visit to Lucius. And although Draco was careful never to rub such things in Pansy's face, there were naturally times when he could not suppress his happiness, nor would Pansy wish it so.

With Harry there, Pansy knew there was someone who would understand. Harry had suffered the loss of people he loved, probably more so than she had, and it was a comfort to know that there would be someone else there who could relate to her feelings.

Not that Pansy was, in any way, planning to spend her holidays in a fit of depression. Indeed, she had rattled off a list of numerous possible activities for them that rivalled Draco's in its volume. Harry went so far as to suggest she purchase him a time turner as a gift if she was to have any hope of cramming half of it in.

Harry had been picking Pansy's brain relentlessly when it came to Draco's present. Her suggestion that he would love whatever Harry bought him, didn't exactly fill the Gryffindor with confidence and left him wondering if she had met Draco at all recently.

The fact that she had been having identical conversations with Draco about Harry's gift was a source of much amusement to Pansy. Despite his earlier assertions about his present buying skills, Draco had been hit with uncertainty regarding his choices for Harry.

It struck him that his boyfriend was not like the usual people he shopped for. The biggest or most expensive wouldn't necessarily mean best where Harry was concerned. To get the reaction he wanted, it was going to have to be heartfelt and thoughtful. A fact that caused Draco no small amount of panic.

With their next Hogsmeade weekend approaching rapidly, time was running out for both boys. Pansy found endless amusement in listening to their conversations which had by then, turned into not so subtle attempts to ascertain what the other would like best.

The Friday before Hogsmeade found Harry down in the Slytherin common room, nestled comfortably with Draco on one of the large leather sofas. The fact that his boyfriend's hand had slid under his jumper and was currently tracing lazy patterns on his back, had driven all thoughts of shopping from Harry's mind.

He leant further into Draco's side and let his head rest on the blond's shoulder. Draco smiled down at his boyfriend and gently brushed a lock of hair back off his forehead. Harry let his eyes drift shut as he felt a cool fingertip trace the length of his scar. Normally he hated attention being paid to the thing that had set him apart for years. But there was something so intimate about having Draco touch him like that and he found he didn't mind at all."Comfy?" The blond quizzed.

"Mmhmm," was all that Harry could muster the energy to say.

As Draco's fingers began to thread through his hair, Harry leant into the touch and almost purred with contentment.

"Are you sure you weren't a cat in a past life?" Draco teased.

Harry smiled lazily, without opening his eyes. "If I was a cat, then you must have been a big, squashy cushion," he replied, burrowing further into the blond's warm body.

"Watch who you're calling big and squashy, Potter. I'll have you know that I am perfectly proportioned."

Harry trailed a finger up the inside of Draco's thigh.

"You certainly are," he replied with a smirk, before looking up at the blond with a gleam in his eyes.

"You know, Harry," Draco whispered, his lips so close that his breath ghosted over Harry's cheek. "It's not nice to tease like that."

"It's only teasing if I don't intend to do anything about it." Harry peeked up at Draco through thick lashes and fluttered them.

This time it was Draco's eyes the widened in surprise at the blatant seductive tone his boyfriend used. These words finished off what Harry's finger had started and the bulge in Draco's trousers was unmistakeable.

"You. Bedroom. Now." Was all he managed to growl as he shot off the sofa and grabbed Harry's hand.

He dragged the willing Gryffindor in the direction of his dormitory, much to the amusement of Pansy, who shot Harry an encouraging wink, and to the annoyance of Theodore Nott, who was swiftly ejected from the bedroom.

Harry perched on Draco's bed as he watched his boyfriend cast a multitude of Locking Charms on the door.

"I don't think anyone's getting in now," he offered.

"I don't think you're getting out either," Draco smirked in reply.Harry looked at the blond with an innocent expression on his face. "So, Mr Malfoy, now that you have me here, just what do you intend to do with me?"

Draco stalked towards him with a predatory glint in his eyes, which were now dark with lust. He straddled Harry's legs and sat firmly on his lap, fingers flying to the hem of Harry's jumper and swiftly removing it. His own was then removed with equal urgency.

Harry pulled Draco flush against him, revelling in the feel of the blond's bare chest pressed tight against his own. Draco's hands tangled in Harry's messy locks and tugged his head back, allowing him access to the delicate skin of his throat.

He nipped and suckled his way down to Harry's collarbone, before sinking his teeth into the flesh there and biting down. It was not enough to break the skin, but was enough to have Harry utter a low groan and give a needy thrust of his hips upward.

Draco chuckled throatily and tugged Harry's head back up until their gazes locked.

"Someone's eager," he teased.

Harry was too overwhelmed with arousal to form anything like a cohesive sentence.

"Dray, please," he whined.

"Please what, Harry?" Draco enquired, trailing his fingers down Harry's naked torso, pausing only at the waistband to his jeans. His fingers teased the fine line of soft hair that disappeared under the denim at this point.

"Touch me, please," Harry gasped, wriggling his hips under Draco, desperate for some friction.

"Well, how can I refuse when you beg so nicely?" Draco swiftly got up off Harry's lap and pulled him to his feet.

"You have too many clothes on," he murmured as his fingers made short work of the fastenings on Harry's trousers. He swiftly tugged both jeans and boxers to the floor, and as he knelt to slide them over Harry's feet, he found himself confronted with his boyfriend's impressive erection.

Flicking out his tongue, Draco lapped the juices that were already leaking from Harry's erection and was rewarded with the sound of Harry's breath hitching loudly.

"Is that what you want, hmm? You want me to wrap my lips round you and suck you?"

Harry's head snapped to look down at Draco but he could only nod wordlessly in reply. The blond grinned evilly.

"All in good time, Harry."

He stood up, and placing his hands on his boyfriend's shoulders, gently pushed him until he was laying flat on the bed. Harry made a whimper of protest but his eyes were fixed on Draco as he shed the rest of his clothes.

Once naked, Draco climbed on to the bed and knelt by Harry's feet.

"Touch yourself," he instructed, his voice thick with lust.

Harry's eyes widened at this, but his hand automatically sought out his hard length. Wrapping fingers round his shaft, Harry slowly smeared pre-cum down his shaft.

Harry's eyes fixed on Draco's face, taking in the way the blond licked his lips at the sight of his boyfriend stroking himself.

The sight of Harry pleasuring himself was too much for Draco and quickly he was fisting his own erection, thrusting into his hand in time with Harry's own strokes.

"Fuck, you look so good like that."

Draco couldn't decide which aroused him the most, the look of pure lust in Harry's eyes, or the way his body arched off the bed with each teasing stroke of his hand.

When Harry raised his legs, placing his feet flat on the bed and giving Draco a perfect view of his tight hole, the blond thought he would explode.

Harry's eyes locked onto Draco's as he slid one finger between his fleshy lips and sucked suggestively on it. He then trailed it down his body and Draco watched breathlessly as it snaked between Harry's spread legs and began to tease his puckered hole.

Harry bit on his lip as he felt the ring of muscle stretch to accommodate his finger. Once he eased it inside his tight channel, he began to thrust rhythmically, his gaze now firmly on Draco.

As he watched Harry slide another finger inside and begin filling his arse in time to the strokes on his shaft, Draco let out a guttural moan.

"Fuck, Harry. I don't think I can last much longer. You look so hot. Such a little slut, fucking your own arse like that for me."

Harry smiled at this and the words left his mouth before he realised what he was saying.

"I'm your little slut, Draco."

He had a fleeting moment of surprise that he wasn't at all embarrassed to be saying these words. The look of pure desire in his boyfriend's eyes wiped away all thoughts like that.

"Yes, you are. You're mine and don't you forget it."

Draco crawled over to Harry and lowered his head, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. His hand pulled Harry's off his erection.

"Stop, I don't want you to cum yet."

Harry pouted slightly at this; he had been so near. Draco only smiled and suckled gently on his boyfriend's fleshy lower lip. As he pulled away, Draco took hold of Harry's hands and tugged him into a sitting position.

"Kneel facing me," he instructed.

Harry complied, giving him a cheeky grin. "You're very bossy, you know? Anyone would think you were in charge here."

Smirking, Draco reached round a lightly slapped Harry's bare arse. "I am, and don't you forget it. Now come here."

Harry's mild sense of outrage at being spanked soon evaporated as Draco knelt in front of him, so close that their erections brushed against each other. He took hold of one of Harry's hands and raising it to his mouth, licked a wet stripe across his palm. Draco then guided Harry's hand until it was wrapped around both their shafts, stroking them together. He then wrapped his hand over Harry's, lacing their fingers together and quickly increased the pace.

Harry wrapped his free arm around Draco's shoulders, pulling him closer, desperate to feel the blond's lips against his own. Harry's tongue plundered Draco's mouth, invading every inch of its moist depths. The room was silent except for the sound of their heavy breaths and the slight slap of skin on skin.

When he felt the unmistakeable twitch of Harry's cock, Draco pulled their hands away. Before Harry could protest the lack of contact, Draco had lain down on the bed on his back. His next words were enough to make Harry forget his own name.

"I want you to come over me."

Needing no further encouragement, Harry straddled Draco's legs and began furiously fisting his erection.

"Yes! I'm gonna cum so hard for you," Harry gasped, his eyes locked onto Draco's. It took only a few moments before he was shooting thick white come over his boyfriend's naked body.

Harry groaned as he watched the blond leisurely run his fingers through the seed that spattered his chest before slipping them into his mouth, sucking every drop off them.

"God, Draco. You look so hot like that."

Harry took only a few moments to recover from his orgasm before he remembered Draco's, now straining, erection.

He quickly lowered his head and engulfed his boyfriend in his mouth, swallowing reflexively as Draco thrust upwards, taking more of his length in.

As Harry ran his tongue down the length of Draco's shaft before sucking lightly at his balls, the blond let out a whimper.

"Ohh, I can't..."

Draco didn't need to say more because Harry understood and quickly took his boyfriend's length back between his lips, sucking him deeply. He could feel Draco's cock pulsing against his tongue as hot come spurted into his mouth and down his throat.

Harry continued to suck and lick Draco until he had swallowed every last drop of the blond's seed. He then crawled up Draco's body, licking his lips, and curled into his boyfriend's embrace.

"That was amazing," he whispered, his lips pressed closed to Draco's ear. He barely received a nod of agreement in return, and smiled at the sight of his sated boyfriend.

Realising after a few minutes that he was now lying in his own semen, Harry reached for his wand and cast a quick Cleaning Charm over them both. He found Draco pouting up at him.

"Don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from," Harry comforted, slightly amused by his boyfriend's reaction.

"Slut," Draco accused lightly.

"Your slut," Harry corrected, before pressing a gentle kiss to the blond's lips.

They lay on the bed for a while longer, their naked bodies tangled together, until a loud knocking at the door spoiled the moment.

"Malfoy, open this fucking door. I want to go to bed. And you needn't think you're going to be doing... Stuff, while I'm in there."

Draco smirked. "What do you think? Should I let him in?"

"I suppose we ought to," Harry agreed reluctantly. Draco sat up and pulled the covers over both their bodies before turning his attention to the door.

"I'll open the door for you, Theo, but I can't promise that things won't be going 'bump' in the night."

"Don't you bloody dare, Draco," Theo stormed, as he burst through the bedroom door. "I'm not Blaise and I don't get off on hearing other people fucking."

Draco only gave his roommate another smirk before closing the hangings round his bed with a twitch of his wand. He lay back down and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's warm body.

"I don't think someone's getting any!"

Harry giggled quietly at his, burying his head in the crook of Draco's neck to muffle the sound, one arm snaking round the blond's waist.

"I can't wait till the holidays," Draco sighed. "We'll be able to share the same bed every night, with no one to disturb us."

Harry's eyes widened a fraction at this. "Will your mum actually let us share a room then?"

"Well, probably not officially," Draco admitted. "She'll put you in one of the guest rooms for appearances sake. But she'll know where you'll really be sleeping."

"I'm not sure how much of a comfort that really is. I don't know that I want to face your mum over breakfast when she knows what we've been up to."

"Harry, most of Slytherin have a fair idea of what we get up too and you face them every morning," Draco reasoned.

"Yes, but that's different. They're Slytherins, this is your mum," Harry argued.

"She may be my mum, but you should know that she's a Slytherin too, so I don't think she'll be too shocked."

Harry only huffed in reply and snuggled closer. Draco chuckled to himself and pressed his lips in a chaste kiss to Harry's forehead.

"Go to sleep. We've got a lot of shopping to do tomorrow and you'll need plenty of energy to keep up with me."

All Harry could think, as he closed his eyes, was that if that wasn't enough to give him nightmares, then he didn't know what was.


	39. I Think It's Romantic

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning feeling warm and relaxed. He let out a yawn and stretched lazily before snuggling back down into the warmth of Draco's embrace. He gazed adoringly at his sleeping boyfriend. Cheeks flushed with sleep, dark lashes like smudges against his pale skin and usually perfect golden hair, splayed out in a messy fashion on the pillow beneath.

Harry always felt privileged to see Draco this way, so relaxed and carefree, his guard completely down. There was a childlike innocence to his sleeping face that sadly receded all too quickly upon waking.

As he nestled further into Draco's body, Harry trailed his hand up and down the blond's naked torso, marvelling at how smooth his skin was. Harry was still amazed at how far he and Draco had come. That they could have gone from being loathed enemies to practically lovers in such a short space of time, was nothing short of miraculous. And Harry couldn't help but wonder if, on some level, he had always had feelings for Draco. There was, after all, a thin line between love and hate.

Not too long ago, Harry had hated Draco. After everything that happened 6th year, especially Dumbledore's death, Harry had wanted to do the blond some serious physical harm. To have gone from that to where they were now, to what they had done last night, was amazing.

At the thought of the events of the previous night, Harry couldn't help the furious blush that crept up his neck and spread over his cheeks. At the time, when he was caught up in the moment, it had seemed all perfectly natural and right. But now, in the cold light of day, it was all Harry could do not to cringe in embarrassment at his behaviour. Draco hadn't seemed to mind at the time, but what would he think of Harry when he woke up and remembered.

Harry became painfully aware then, of how his naked body was wrapped around his boyfriend, his morning arousal already nudging against Draco's thigh. He started to slowly edge away from the blond, hoping he could be up and dressed before Draco awoke.

Harry had barely moved more than a couple of inches across the bed when the arm around his waist tightened considerably and an unmistakeable growl came from the direction of his boyfriend.

"Stop it."

Harry looked up and found narrowed grey eyes fixed on him with a piercing gaze.

"Stop what?" he tried sounding innocent.

"Stop inching away from me like that. I know what you're doing and you can just stop it."

Draco's voice was rough and scratchy from sleep and Harry couldn't help but think how sexy he sounded.

"I was just getting up."

"Harry, this is me you're talking to, not one of your idiot Gryffindor friends."

Harry protested at this comment initially but relented when it occurred to him that Draco may have a point. Over the years, no matter what was wrong with him, Harry would always answer any enquiry about his wellbeing with the standard answer 'I'm fine' and, with the possible exception of Hermione, everyone had just taken him at his word.

"Okay then, smart arse. Why don't you tell me what I was doing, if you're so insightful?"

Draco chuckled at this and placed a quick kiss on Harry's pouting lips.

"Don't sulk," he admonished affectionately. "I don't need to be particularly insightful to know what's going on with you. You're like an open book, your emotions are written all over your face for the world to see."

Harry scowled and then quickly tried to rearrange his features into a neutral expression. Draco kissed him again.

"It's not a bad thing, I rather like it. It's part of your Gryffindor charm. You'd never have made a Slytherin though."

Harry stuck out his chin defiantly at this. "I could have been a Slytherin if I wanted to."

"Of course you could, Harry."

Draco's tone was slightly patronising and it spurred Harry into making a confession that he had never made to anyone other than Dumbledore before.

"I could. I would have been too, if I had just let the Sorting Hat put me where it wanted."

Grey eyes widened in surprise and Draco's mouth gaped slightly for a moment before he snapped it shut and smiled slightly.

"Only you would get away with telling the Sorting Hat what house to put you in."

Harry just shrugged. "I didn't exactly tell it where to put me, just where not to. All I could think was 'not Slytherin' over and over."

"I suppose I should ask why, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I already know the answer. Or rather, that I am the answer."

Harry kissed the tip of Draco's nose, never tiring of the adorable way he scrunched it up in protest. "Well, you were an awful brat back then. You said horrible things about Hagrid, and then you made fun of Ron. Plus everything I had heard about Slytherin at that point was bad. I do wonder sometimes though, what it would have been like."

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think we would have corrupted you. I much prefer your Gryffindor innocence."

Harry flushed again at this. He had hardly behaved innocent the night before. If that was what Draco liked about him, what would he think now?

"And we're back to that again," Draco sighed. He wrapped his arms tightly around Harry and pulled him in close.

"To what?" Harry questioned, his body slightly tense as it pressed against Draco's naked form.

"Back to you freaking out about last night." Draco rolled Harry onto his back and raised himself on his elbows above him, so that he was looking down into his boyfriends face.

"Harry," he began earnestly. "Last night was amazing. You were amazing. You shouldn't feel embarrassed about anything we did. I know this is all new to you, but it's all perfectly normal, I promise."

Harry wondered if his face could get any redder and he tried to turn his head away from Draco's piercing gaze. Draco however, was having none of it. He took hold of Harry's chin with one hand and quickly pulled his head back round, before capturing his boyfriend's lips in a brief, sweet kiss.

"Last night, you were...well I've never been so turned on in all my life. And it wasn't just the sex, although Merlin knows that was hot. It was that you trusted me enough to be that open and relaxed around me."

Draco paused here and Harry noticed a slight pink tinge to his boyfriend's cheeks before he continued speaking.

"I've never felt that connected to someone before. Please don't turn it into something sordid, something to be ashamed of."

Harry felt indescribable warmth spread through his chest at Draco's words. Any feelings of shame he may have felt fled and they were replaced by an incredible feeling of love directed towards the blond.

Harry wrapped one arm round Draco's neck, toying with the wisps of hair at the nape. He tugged the blond down until their lips met in a fierce kiss. Harry pressed his lips firmly against Draco's, his tongue immediately seeking entrance to the velvety warmth of his boyfriend's mouth. As Harry arched his body upwards, his erection pressing against Draco's hip, the blond moaned deep in his throat and then reluctantly pulled back from the embrace.

"If you keep that up, Harry, you're going to get more than you bargained for."

Harry grinned and rested his forehead against Draco's for a moment, before pulling back, biting his lips nervously

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to. It's just that this is all new to me. Not just being gay, but the whole sex thing. Maybe that Gryffindor innocence thing isn't so great after all."

"There's nothing wrong with the innocence, Harry. It's part of your charm. You just need to relax and trust that I would...well, just trust me. Sex is perfectly natural, especially between two healthy, horny, teenage boys." Draco gave a teasing roll of his hips, his body pressing against Harry's growing erection. Harry let out a quiet whimper and thrust back eagerly. Draco only grinned and rolled off his boyfriend.

"We haven't got time for that now, Harry. I have to get up and shower and you need to go back up to Gryffindor tower and give Blaise that Cloak of yours so he can get out of there unseen."

The pout that had crossed Harry's face at the loss of contact with his boyfriend disappeared at this.

"Blaise is in the tower?"

Draco only nodded.

"Bloody hell, he's brave. Ron will have a baby if he catches him."

"Exactly, which is why you need to get back there and give him your Cloak. As much fun as it would be to see the Weasel give birth, we aren't supposed to be antagonising him at the moment."

Draco slid out of bed and quickly tugged on a pair of pyjama pants. He looked down at Harry, spread naked on the bed, his arousal jutting forth. "You might want to take a cold shower while you're at it. And don't take too long, I want to get to Hogsmeade early. We've got a long day of shopping ahead of us."

With that, Draco turned and headed towards the bathroom, grinning to himself at the sound of Harry's groan of protest.Harry had hurried back up to Gryffindor tower and was greeted by a much relieved Neville and Blaise. He had handed over his Invisibility Cloak, along with several threats of bodily harm if anything befell his family heirloom. Blaise only gave him a grateful smile and then disappeared from view.

Harry took Draco's advice and had a cold shower. Unfortunately it did very little to dampen the enthusiasm that his boyfriend had started. Now that he was feeling much more relaxed about the previous nights activities, Harry had no problem with replaying the events in his mind as he leisurely gave himself release.

Realising that he had made himself serious late for breakfast, Harry quickly towelled himself down and made his way over to the wardrobe. He thought, with a brief flash of longing, of the old days, when he would have been able to pull any old thing on. It was different now. Firstly, he had such a wide selection of clothes to choose from, and secondly, he now had a boyfriend who would, in all probability, send him back up to change. That, or refuse to be seen in public with him.

Running a hand through his still damp hair, Harry cast a quick look out of the window to check on the weather. There was a definite frost and the grey skies were full of the promise of further snow. Pulling on a pair of black, boot cut jeans; he then selected a long sleeved white t-shirt (which Draco had approved of only because of the large black Dragon print on it,) and red zip-up hoodie. As he went to cram his feet into his trusty trainers, Harry thought of the weather and opted instead for the sturdy black leather boots that Draco had insisted he buy.A quick glance at his watch told him that he would be lucky if Draco was still waiting for him, never mind eat breakfast. Grabbing his bag, scarf and winter cloak, he hurried out of the dormitory and down to the Entrance Hall.

Fortunately, Draco was still waiting for him. Unfortunately, he was tapping his foot impatiently and had a scowl firmly in place.

"You're late!" he accused. "I could have sworn I told you earlier not to be. You've missed breakfast now." Draco glared and thrust out his hand which held several slices of toast wrapped in a napkin.

"Here, take this. Pansy's got some fruit for after, if you're still hungry."

Pansy grinned and stepped forward, linking her arm through Harry's.

"You really should know better than to come between a Malfoy and his love of shopping, Harry. Shame on you."

Harry chuckled softly and leaned forward to take the proffered toast off Draco.

"Thanks. I'm sorry I was late."

"Have a good wank, did you?" Draco whispered, an amused smirk on his face. Harry flushed a little before returning the smirk with interest.

"Yes, thanks, it was amazing."

Draco looked momentarily shocked at Harry's confession before his features slid into a slight leer.

"You'll have to give me an action replay later."

Harry looked like he was considering this for a moment before replying. "Maybe, but I was thinking that maybe this time you could show me."

Draco raised an eyebrow at this before a broad grin broke over his face, and Harry couldn't help but feel like the sun had come out.

"Let's see if you can be a good boy today. Maybe then you'll get a reward."

Harry elbowed him for this. "Git," he muttered, unable to hide the affection in his tone.

"Your git," Draco amended, "And you know you love it." By the time the group of friends had travelled the short distance to Hogsmeade, their day had already been planned out for them by Draco in a manner reminiscent of a military style operation.

Although Harry was initially disappointed that he wasn't going to get to spend the whole day with his boyfriend, after seeing the almost fanatical gleam that lit up the blond's eyes, that emotion was swiftly replaced with relief. Both Neville and Harry chuckled unsympathetically at the pleading look Blaise shot at them over his shoulder as Draco marched him off in the direction of the shops.

"I don't know what you two are standing round laughing like idiots for. You only have two hours, so I suggest you get moving."

The two Gryffindors shifted guiltily at having been caught out and nodded their compliance to Draco. Neville later confided to Harry that he had felt an overwhelming urge to salute at the time.

Pansy had disappeared off with the rest of the Slytherin girls from their year, stating firmly that she was in no way crazy enough to attempt shopping with Draco at this time of year.

"C'mon, we'd better get a move on." Harry tugged on Neville's sleeve.

"Yeah, we've only got two hours. Unless you're feeling brave enough to run late?"

Harry gave a mock shudder at this. "Hardly. You've seen how he is. I 'd rather face Voldemort again first."

"He is rather scary, isn't he? I'm all for being organised, but this is just...You realise he probably has you scheduled in for sex later!"

"Neville!" Harry looked shocked for a brief moment before joining his friend in his giggles.

The conversation died off then as they found themselves at the door to Scrivenshafts. After some minutes spent browsing, Harry settled on a Phoenix feather quill and silver filigree inkwell for Hermione, and Neville purchased one similar for his Gran.

Next on the list was Honeydukes, where Harry purchased an obscene amount of chocolate, confident in the knowledge that Draco would love at least one of his gifts.

"Trying to sweeten him up?" Neville enquired in amusement when Harry emerged laden with boxes.

"He's sweet enough already," Harry returned smugly.

Neville looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "I never thought I'd say this about Malfoy, but I think you're right. Seeing him with you, he's like a whole other person. Plus, I don't suppose the fact that he is hopelessly smitten with you hurts."

"Neville," Harry protested, blushing furiously.

"What? Oh, Harry, come on. Anyone who's seen the two of you together knows it."

"It's that obvious?" Harry asked in a panicked whisper.

"Not all the time," Neville reassured. "But anyone who's seen the pair of you snuggled up together would have to be blind not to notice." Neville stopped then, realising that Harry was no longer at his side. He turned and found that the other boy was a standing a few paces behind with a slightly dazed expression on his face.

Neville closed the distance between them and grabbed Harry's arm.

"C'mon mate, get with it. We've only got just over an hour left and I still have all of Blaise's presents to get."

Harry allowed his friend to lead him in the direction of Gladrags without further protest.

"Do you really think he loves me?" For the life of him, Harry couldn't keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.

Neville rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do. C'mon, Harry, short of him wearing a t-shirt that says 'I love Harry Potter' he couldn't make it more obvious."

"Well, he's never said it."

"Have you?"

"No," Harry admitted reluctantly.

"Well, there you are then. One of you is going to have to go first."

"So why does it have to be me?" Harry muttered, mutinously.

"It doesn't have to be," Neville admitted slowly. "But you're the Gryffindor of the relationship. Rushing in headfirst, heedless of consequences, that's what we do best, isn't it?"

Getting no reply from Harry, he continued. "Slytherins are more cautious by nature. Plus there's that whole 'Malfoy upbringing' that he has to overcome. He was raised to believe emotions are weakness and you don't just get over that overnight."

"How do you know that?" Harry was curious now.

"Blaise told me." Neville admitted with a shrug. "Just tell him how you feel, Harry. I guarantee you he feels the same."

The ringing of the bell as they opened the door to Gladrags heralded the end of that conversation, but Harry found he couldn't get it out of his head for the remainder of the day.

He quickly purchased the next part of Draco's Christmas gift and then waited patiently while Neville browsed the racks in search of something for his boyfriend. Eventually, Neville settled on a pair of black Dragon-hide boots and Harry waited outside for him as he went to pay.

"Do you think he'll like them?" Neville asked upon exiting the shop.

"Course he will. They'll go with those leather trousers he's so fond of wearing."

"Yeah, I guess. He does rather like leather, doesn't he?" Neville had a slightly apprehensive look on his face as he made this statement.

"You're not a fan then?" Harry asked, confused by his friends expression.

"Oh, it's not that," Neville answered quickly. "I think they look great on him. It's just I have an awful feeling that he's planning to get me a pair for Christmas and I don't think I'll be able to carry them off quite as well."

Harry ran an appraising eye over his friend's body. "Oh I don't know, Neville. I think they'll look good on you. You've got quite a nice arse."

"Harry, you can't say things like that," Neville spluttered in surprise. Harry just grinned, pleased that for once it wasn't his face that was red with embarrassment.

"No, Harry, you can't say things like that. There's only one arse you should be admiring, and that's mine."

Harry span round at these words and found a pair of narrowed grey eyes glaring at him. He stepped forward, ignoring the sniggers that came from both Blaise and Neville.

"You know I didn't mean anything by it, don't you?" His tone was almost pleading and Draco took pity on him.

"Of course I do, you idiot. But that still doesn't mean I want you looking at Longbottom's arse. All you have to do is ask nicely and I'll show you mine." Draco tried for a lascivious look, but it was ruined by the shiver that ran through him.

"You're cold," Harry accused. "You shouldn't be standing around outside like this, you'll catch your death." Harry was vaguely aware that he sounded like his Aunt Petunia did when she was fussing over Dudley, but Draco shivered again and the thought vanished.

"Here, put this on." Harry unhooked his scarf and tying it securely round Draco's neck.

"Harry, that's a Gryffindor scarf you're putting on me."

"Huh? So?" Harry looked up from his hands which were currently settling the ends of said scarf against Draco's robes.

"No reason," Draco answered, a smile on his face. Then his eyes widened as he caught sight of the bags that Harry was clutching.

"Are those for me?" he asked, trying to peer into the Gladrags bag. Harry swatted him on the arm.

"Never you mind. Now get inside where it's warm."

"Fine," Draco huffed, one hand opening the shop door. "You've got half an hour left. Don't be late again." With that, he turned and disappeared into the store, his cloak billowing impressively behind him.

"Is it just me," Neville began uncertainly. "Or did that remind you of..."

"Snape," Harry finished for him. "Yeah, I've noticed it a couple of times. I'm not really sure if it's a Slytherin thing or if Draco just got private lessons."

Neville began chuckling quietly and Harry looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry," he said, between chuckles. "I was just imagining what Snape's reaction would be to you and Draco being together."

The thought of his old Professor's reaction was enough to have Harry join Neville in a fit of laughter which lasted several minutes and had tears running down his face.

There followed a quick visit to Quality Quidditch Supplies, where Harry purchased a new pair of keeper's gloves for Ron and, as an afterthought, added a pair of seeker gloves for Draco. They then made a brief stop off at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, where both boys invested in a selection of products for their roommate's amusement.

As they bid farewell to George, Harry cast an apprehensive glance at his watch, which revealed they had precisely two minutes to make it to the Three Broomsticks without being hexed, Slytherin style!

"We're going to have to make a run for it." Harry informed Neville, as he ensured he had a secure grip on all his packages.

The door to the pub had barely slammed shut behind them before a clock could be heard chiming noon. Harry looked up and saw Draco stood at the bar, smirking at him.

"See," he drawled. "I knew you could tell the time if you really tried. Longbottom, make yourself useful and help me carry these drinks over to our table."

Neville complied without complaint and Harry followed behind, lugging his shopping. He sank gratefully into a seat alongside Pansy, relieved that the shopping was over for now at least.

"You've been busy," Pansy said, indicting his bags.

"Yeah," Harry agreed with a rueful smile. He looked round the table and noticed a distinct lack of other bags.

"Where's all your stuff, Dray? There's no way you've just spent two hours shopping and bought nothing."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Harry. And you call yourself a wizard." A quick flick of his wand shrunk Harry's purchases so that they all fit snugly inside the smallest of his bags.

Harry felt himself colour as Draco drawled. "You can take the boy from the Muggles, but you can't take the Muggle from the boy." The others grinned at this and Harry tried to decide whether to be offended or not. Before he could make his mind up, his attention was drawn elsewhere.

"Who are those drinks for?" he asked.

"What drinks?" Draco answered, an innocent tone to his voice that always spelled guilt to Harry.

"Those two there. There are five of us at this table and you bought seven Butterbeers."

This grabbed the attention of the others and indicated to Harry that, whatever was going on, they knew as much about it as he did.

"Oh, those drinks," Draco replied, infuriating Harry by calmly admitted what he had just tried to deny. "We're expecting guests."

Before Harry could enquire any further, two figures paused at the edge of their table and a stilted voice spoke.

"Malfoy."

"Weasley, Granger, take a seat, please."

As Harry's mouth hung open, Ron and Hermione slid into the seats opposite and began making small talk. Ron mainly stuck to Neville, although Harry noticed him shoot the occasional wary glance at Draco, who seemed to be chatting quite pleasantly to Hermione.

Wondering if he had somehow stumbled into a parallel universe, Harry looked up and found Pansy grinning at him. She reached over, placed her fingers on his chin and tipped his mouth shut. This action drew the others attention to him.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, all concern. "Only you seem very quiet."

"Uh...um...yes, it's...I'm fine. What are you doing here?" He blurted out. Amused looks appeared on the faces of the others at his obvious confusion.

"Now, Harry," Draco chastised, as if speaking to a small child. "As eloquent as that was, that's no way to welcome our guests. Granger and the Weas...Weasley are here because I invited them to join us."

Harry sat still with a slightly stunned expression on his face. Not sure what surprised him most. That Draco would voluntarily spend time with Ron and Hermione, or that Ron hadn't responded to Draco's 'Weasel' slip. Of course, he reflected, that could have something to do with the vice like grip that Hermione currently had on his hand.

Several plates of sandwiches were ordered, which Draco insisted on paying for. Ron protested this initially, but relented when he realised that the Slytherin was simply being polite, rather than attempting a slur on the Weasleys financial situation.

As they munched their way through lunch, Harry leant back in his seat and watched his friends interact, something he had doubted he would ever see. He couldn't help but chuckle at the shocked look on Hermione's face when Blaise offered her the use of his Muggle hair straighteners. Instead of taking offence at what could have been an implied insult to her hair, she eagerly accepted the offer and then grilled Pansy intensely on the charm she had used to get Muggle appliances to work in the magical atmosphere of Hogwarts.

What amazed him most was the conversation that was currently going on between Ron and Draco. The two boys had managed to find common ground somewhere between Quidditch and chess, and as long as they stuck to those safe topics, they seemed to be getting on fine.

Draco slid his hand over onto Harry's knee and took hold of the hand that was resting there. Lacing their fingers together, he gave a squeeze and leaned over to whisper to his boyfriend.

"You okay?" Truth be told, Draco was a little concerned by how quiet Harry had been.

Harry nodded and managed a brief reply. "I'm fine. Thanks for this." He gave Draco's hand a tight squeeze and wished more than anything that he could throw his arms round the blond and show him just how grateful he was.

Harry made up his mind that come the New Year, he was going to tell Ron and Hermione about him and Draco. They had all managed to act like civilised adults today, so maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he feared.

Lunch was soon over and the friends went their separate ways. Harry and Draco left the others and went off to do the rest of their shopping. After some discussion, they had decided that they would buy certain presents between them, a fact which had pleased Harry no end, making him feel like part of a real couple.

They firstly headed back to Gladrags where, after much deliberation on Draco's part (and very little input on Harry's) they finally selected a new pair of dress robes for Pansy. When it was all wrapped and paid for, Draco turned to Harry, only to find that he had wandered off. He eventually tracked him down at the back of the store, admiring a leather jacket.

"Very nice, Harry. Are you thinking of getting that?"

"I was thinking of buying it for George. I want to get him something nice."

Draco reached out and turned over the price tag. "It's rather a lot to be spending on a Weasley."

Harry shot him a warning look. "You should be a bit more grateful to him, Draco. If it wasn't for George, I wouldn't have figured out I liked boys, and then where would you be."

"Miserable," Draco answered honestly. "I'll tell you what; we'll get it between us. It seems I have as much reason to be grateful to him as you do."

Harry smiled warmly at his boyfriend and wished for the hundredth time that day that he could be more open in his affection to him. The jacket was paid for and Draco promptly dragged Harry out of the shop and in the direction of Jouet's Toy store.

Harry took much more interest in the shopping process in this store, much to Draco's amusement. They purchased a toy broom for Teddy Lupin, along with a wide array of cuddly toys that Draco had insisted all children needed.

There was a quick stop at the apothecary where Draco picked up a number of lotions and potions that he claimed were for his mother, though Harry had a sneaking suspicion that a lot of them were for his own beauty purposes.

Their final stop of the day was in a small jewellery store that was just off the main street. Again, Harry was of little use when it came to selecting an appropriate gift for Andromeda. Draco eventually settled on a pair of simple diamond studs, explaining to Harry that you couldn't go far wrong with diamonds when it came to women. As an afterthought he also purchased a similar stud for Blaise, though Harry hadn't even noticed that the Italian boy had his ear pierced.

Their shopping done for the day, Harry heaved a sigh of relief. Shopping with Draco hadn't actually been as bad as he had been led to believe. Although, having seen his boyfriend's extravagance when it came to gift buying, Harry was now seriously reconsidering his choice of presents for the blond. The only problem was that the holidays started in less than two weeks and he wouldn't have an opportunity to return to Hogsmeade before then.

He mentioned his concerns to Draco who assured him that they would make time to visit Diagon Alley before Christmas, and Harry had to be satisfied with that.Later that evening, in the Slytherin common room, Draco was sat in his usual seat, with Pansy and Blaise draped on the sofa next to him.

"You're looking very thoughtful, Draco. Something on your mind?"

Draco looked over at Blaise and nodded slowly. "I was just thinking. Harry wants to go into Diagon Alley to do some more shopping before Christmas."

"You mean an afternoon shopping with you hasn't scarred him for life," Pansy interjected.

Draco fixed her with a baleful glare and she subsided quickly.

"So what's the plan then?" asked Blaise, returning Draco to the conversation.

"Well, I was planning on flooing up there for the day. But the more I think about it, I think we should go there straight off the Hogwarts Express. We could book rooms at the Leaky Cauldron and stay overnight."

He had caught both his friend's attention with this suggestion and they were nodding enthusiastically.

"You could take us to one of these Muggle clubs that you are always raving about, Blaise."The Italian boy grinned. "Sure. But you won't know what's hit you."

Draco dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "You can invite Longbottom along too," he added generously.

"Are you going to invite Granger and the Weasel?" Pansy wanted to know, still a little shocked at his earlier largesse.

"No," Draco answered. "They don't know about me and Harry and I refuse to keep my hands to myself just so I don't offend their delicate sensibilities."

"So that's what this is all about," Blaise grinned. "A last chance to jump Harry before your mother puts you in separate beds."

"Must you be so vulgar, Blaise." Draco snapped. "This is not about me jumping Harry; we haven't even had sex yet."

It was hard to tell who was most shocked by this confession. Blaise and Pansy, that Draco had managed to curb his well renowned libido so well, or Draco, who had had no intention of making such a statement and was currently horrified at the slip.

"Wow, that's a shocker!" Blaise looked, frankly, stunned by his friends revelation. "I didn't even get a date out of you before you had me in bed."

"That's different," Pansy sniffed. "Draco's in love with Harry. I think it's romantic."

"Pansy..." Draco began warningly, trying to ignore the sniggers coming from Blaise's direction.

"What? Oh come on Draco. It's not like the whole of Slytherin doesn't know that you're smitten with him. There's practically birds' singing over your heads when you're together. I don't know why you're so embarrassed. I think it's adorable."

"That's exactly why I don't want it becoming common knowledge. It would ruin my reputation. Need I remind you that Malfoy's are not adorable? By right's, I should have shagged him senseless by now."

"But you haven't and that's why it's so sweet. I never thought I would see the day when Draco Malfoy waited patiently for someone to be ready."

"Pansy, I would be grateful if I don't hear the words, sweet, adorable or, Merlin forbid, cute, come out of your mouth for the rest of the evening. Now can we change the subject please and forget all about what I just said. Or do I need to start Obliviating?"

Noticing the warning glint in their friend's eyes, both Blaise and Pansy nodded their agreement to his request and quickly fell into planning their overnight trip to Diagon Alley, careful to avoid all reference to Draco and Harry, and anything to do with their sex life.


	40. Temperamental Dragons

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Author Note: I received far more requests for a copy of the 'missing chapter' than I expected, so I apologise for the delay in sending it out to anyone. If you requested it, and haven't received it, that is because your email address did not come through in the pm you sent me. Hardly anyone's did, unless they spaced it out. So I had to get the address's from their profiles. If your email is not listed, I couldn't send it to you. Apologies for this.

The final weeks of term flew by so quickly that Harry barely found time to be nervous about his impending visit to Malfoy manor. Before he knew where he was, lessons had ended, the Christmas feast had been eaten, and he found himself stowed away in a carriage on the Hogwarts Express.

Pansy was sprawled across the remaining seats to Harry's side, contentedly using his lap as her pillow. Draco was sat opposite; an ignored book spread open on his lap. His eyes flickered between the fast moving scenery and watching his boyfriend with barely suppressed jealousy, as he ran his fingers through Pansy's hair.

Catching his gaze, Harry smiled. "You okay?" he said quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping girl in his lap. Spotting how Draco's eyes narrowed at his friend, Harry's own eyes widened.

"You don't mind, do you? It's quite soothing really. Kind of like petting a cat."

Now what Draco really wanted to say was, that yes he did mind, very much so. Then he wanted to drag Pansy off his boyfriend by her hair and throw himself into Harry's lap instead. He wanted to feel those strong fingers raking through his hair.

It was a secret known only to a privileged few, that Draco's scalp was one of his most erogenous zones and he couldn't be touched there without becoming almost instantly hard. There was even one memorable occasion when, after having bribed Blaise into a scalp massage, he had actually come in his pants without any other form of stimulation.

"No, of course I don't mind." As Draco answered, he got up to adjust his robes and 'accidentally' dropped his book onto Pansy's sleeping head.

"Ow," Pansy wailed, rubbing at her sore head.

"Draco," Harry chastised, something like amusement dancing in his eyes.

"What?" Draco asked in his best 'innocent' voice. Only Neville saw the victorious smirk that crossed the blond's face as he turned to settle himself back on his seat.

Harry only shook his head and Pansy shot daggers at her best friend.

"Git," she accused. "You did that on purpose."

"Don't be so silly, Pansy," Draco replied briskly. "It was a complete accident. You ask Longbottom."

Neville looked up, startled at being brought into the conversation. "What? Oh, yes, I'm sure it was just an accident," he said, anxious to appease Draco, who was currently staring at him most meaningfully.

At his words, the blond's face lit into a bright smile. "See," he said smugly.

"Coward," Pansy directed at Neville, as she settled back down onto Harry's lap.

"Wise choice, Nev."

Neville looked at Harry with a wary smile before burying his head back in the thick Herbology book that he had brought for the journey.

Neville never felt fully at ease around the other Slytherins without Blaise there to act as a buffer. He just wasn't as comfortable with their 'friendly' bickering as Harry was. But, Neville supposed, years of being friends with Ron had more than prepared Harry for dealing with volatile temperaments.

Spying Pansy glaring at him, Draco poked his tongue out at her and smirked, before returning to his book as if nothing had happened. Harry smiled indulgently at his boyfriend's antics. Truth be told, he rather liked that Draco was a bit jealous and possessive of him. And the childlike aspect of his character could be very appealing.

As silence reigned once again, Harry turned his attention back to the window,staring unseeingly at the passing scenery as he lost himself in his thoughts.

Harry had been pleasantly surprised at how well Ron had taken the news that he wouldn't be spending Christmas at The Burrow. There had been no explosion or outraged rant. He had listened to Harry quietly, albeit with an expression on his face that clearly said he thought his friend was crazy, and had raised no real objections.

Of course, that could have been due to the fact that every time he opened his mouth to speak, Hermione had given him a sharp dig to the ribs and then glared pointedly at him until he shut it again.

Although it wasn't a warm acceptance of his decision, Harry realised that, coming from Ron, this reaction was practically a ringing endorsement, and he appreciated how much effort it had cost the redhead to remain calm.

The friends were finally dragged from the individual pursuits by the return of Blaise, who, having finished with his prefect duties, came bounding into the compartment and kept up a ceaseless stream of excited chatter, right up until they reached Kings Cross.

By the time they had spilled out onto the platform, Pansy seemed to have been infected with Blaise's enthusiasm. The two of them seemed to be in competition as to who could come up with the best idea for their forthcoming night out. Neville stood by, silently, listening with amusement to their increasingly outrageous attempts at one-upmanship.

Draco was fussing with everyone's trunks, shrinking them ready for transit to the Leaky Cauldron. He caught sight of Harry grinning at his efforts and bristled.

"I'm glad I amuse you, Potter," he snarked. "One of us has to be organised. Tell me," he continued, warming to his topic. "Have you given any though at all as to how we are all going to get across London?"

"Apparate?" Harry guessed.

"Honestly," the blond huffed. "Are you sure the Sorting Hat didn't want to put you into Hufflepuff? You cannot Apparate on, or off, this platform. Don't you think everyone would do it, if it was possible?"

"I guess. I never really thought about it."

"That's your problem, you never do. I suggest in future, that you..."

Draco stopped dead here and Harry was alarmed to see his already pale face, whiten further.

"Draco," he began. "Are you-"

"Harry!" The voice was tentative but warm, and Harry knew without looking exactly who it was. Steeling his nerves, he turned slowly and found himself greeted by the sight of a nervous looking Molly Weasley.

The nervousness in her eyes vanished rapidly and Harry found himself swept up in an overwhelming hug.

"Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you. It just won't feel like a proper Christmas without you this year."

Released from the embrace, Harry chewed on his bottom lip, searching for a way to explain.

"Don't you worry dear. I understand your reasons. It's just...well, you'll be missed."

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," Harry finally said, somewhat awkwardly.

"It's Molly, Harry. I think you've earned that right at least. Now don't you go feeling guilty about it. You deserve to have fun, I'm only sorry that certain things..." She paused here and glared over her shoulder to where Ginny stood, silently fuming. "Have made you feel less than welcome."

A hand pressed his shoulder and Harry found Arthur Weasley smiling at him benignly.

"Our home is your home, Harry. Don't you ever forget that. You're welcome anytime, you and your friends." He finished up with a speculative look over Harry's shoulder. "Speaking of which, aren't you going to introduce us."

That puzzled Harry slightly; as he was sure that Mr Weasley knew only too well who his companions were. However, deciding it was probably one of those weird pureblood manners things that Draco was always going on about, he smiled at the man and then turned to his boyfriend.

Draco was no longer standing at his side. Taking advantage of the diversion, that was Harry being smothered by Mrs Weasley, he had melted into the background and was now stood several feet away with an equally uncomfortable looking Pansy. Blaise and Neville seemed to have disappeared completely.

Whatever else he had learned at his father's feet, Draco had been raised to know the importance of good manners and, hearing Arthur Weasley's words, this training kicked in. He stepped forward, bringing a reluctant Pansy with him.

"This is Draco," Harry said, just as the blond pulled level with him. He thought it completely unnecessary to add the word 'Malfoy' to that sentence, for two reasons. The first was that no one could possibly look at Draco and be left in any doubt as to his parentage. The second was a desire on his part, not to remind the two elder Weasley's of what several of their children had suffered at the hands of Draco's family.

Ever since he had seen Harry's surrogate family approach, Draco had been struggling to maintain his mask of control. He looked up, expecting to see nothing less than abject hatred or disgust in their eyes and was stunned when he found neither.

"Mr Weasley," he acknowledged with a slight incline of his head. "Mrs Weasley." Draco held out his hand in greeting and Harry noticed that it trembled slightly.

As Arthur Weasley warmly clasped the outstretched hand, Harry let out a breath that he hadn't realised he was holding. Although he loved and trusted the Weasley's, he hadn't, in his wildest dreams, expected this. He would have found it hard to blame them for reacting badly to Draco's presence. The daily sight of Bill's scars would be enough to harden any heart. But coupled with Ron's brush with poisoned mead, and Ginny's trip into the Chamber of Secrets, well, Harry had honestly dreaded them finding out about his relationship with the blond.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Draco." And Harry could tell from the expression in the older man's eyes that he meant it.

"Thank you, Sir." Draco looked as thrown as he felt by this reception. Allowing his mask to slip, he appeared to the Weasleys as he truly was; shocked, nervous and guilt ridden.

That was all it took for Molly Weasley to forget that she was faced with Lucius' Malfoy's heir, and she startled Draco further with a brief hug. Completely thrown by this, all of Draco's previous training deserted him, as did the ability to form coherent thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, before a horrified expression covered his face. He mentally kicked himself for this outburst, for being so naive as to think an apology could every make up for his actions. But he knew how much these people meant to Harry and he felt he owed it to his boyfriend to at least try.

Hanging his head, he muttered a quick, "Excuse me," and turned away, as if to leave. A hand took hold of his arm and he turned round expecting to see Harry's concerned face. What he saw, was Arthur Weasley gazing at him, his face looking quite serious.

Draco couldn't help but wonder idly, just what his father would say if he could see his son now, apologising to Weasleys. But then, he reasoned, that worrying about what his father wanted him to do was largely responsible for him having a need to apologise in the first place.

As the older man opened his mouth, Draco winced, expecting to be shouted at, cursed or sworn at. Anything, in fact, other than the quiet, "Thank you," that he received. The blond looked at Harry in confusion before turning at last to face Molly Weasley, reasoning that 'the Weasel' must have inherited his temper from one parent.

"I-I didn't-" he began before he was cut off.

"Hush. What's done is done. Best not to dwell on it. You're sorry and that's what counts."

"But Bill-"

"Bears you no ill feeling for what happened, and nor do we. You were put in a terrible situation, one that no child should ever have to face. Now, we'll say no more about it."

Stunned didn't even come close to describing how Draco felt at that moment. That this couple, whom he had been raised to despise, could so blithely dismiss what had nearly killed their eldest child, took his breath away.

"T-Thank you," he stammered, trying desperately to swallow the lump that had appeared in his throat.

Mr Weasley nodded in recognition, but, noticing that Draco was struggling to hold his emotions in check, he said no more and wisely changed the subject.

"Aren't you going to introduce this young lady, Harry?"

Pansy had stood, shyly, to one side during the previous conversation, silently relieved that Draco had been called on to go first. Now she had witnessed his reception, she felt decidedly more comfortable about the whole situation.

As Harry introduced her, he didn't miss the brief flash of recognition that crossed Arthur's face. He couldn't help but wonder just how much the older man, as a Ministry employee and ex-Order member, knew of the Slytherin girl's story.

Pansy smiled and made polite small talk, only displaying discomfort when Molly began to apologise profusely for her daughter's recent behaviour.

They parted company shortly after, but only once Mrs Weasley had extracted a promise from Harry to spend at least part of his summer holidays at the Burrow.

As Harry turned around, he became acutely aware of just how much attention their strange group had garnered. Despite the rush of irritation he felt at the onlooker's curiosity, he had to own that it was hardly surprising. It wasn't everyday that Harry Potter was spotted consorting with the children of Death Eaters.

The hostility towards the Slytherin's was by no means as overt as it had been back in September. This came as a big relief to Draco, who still felt very uncomfortable in the public domain. Not that he was naive enough to believe that it had anything to do with a softening of attitude towards either him or his friends. The blond was fully aware that it was only the presence of 'the Boy Who Lived' that kept peoples enmity at bay.

As they made their way to the Floo point, in search of Blaise and Neville, Draco remained silent. His mind was still busy trying to process just what had happened between himself and the older Weasleys. Harry cast a concerned glance at his boyfriend and was relieved to see only a thoughtful expression on his face.

He then turned his gaze back in the direction of his surrogate family, and had to bite back a laugh at what he saw. If Draco was confused by what had just passed, it was nothing to the shock that Ron was apparently suffering from. The stunned expression on his face was priceless and Hermione was forced to take his hand and drag him away from the spot where he stood, eyes wide, mouth gaping.

* * *

As he stepped out of the Floo in the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was grateful that, for once, he had managed to retain both his dignity and his balance.

They checked in and quickly followed the barman's directions to their respective rooms. The plan was to stop in, only to drop their luggage off, before making their way out into Diagon Alley; it was already mid afternoon and they all hoped to get some shopping done before everywhere closed.

However, as the door to Harry and Draco's room slammed behind them, it swiftly became apparent that the blond had other ideas. Harry found himself backed up against the door, as Draco's hands trailed down his body.

"Draco." Harry noticed that his voice came out a fraction higher than usual. "We can't. The others will be waiting for us."

"Please," Draco scoffed. "Do you really think that Blaise isn't currently molesting Longbottom in a similar fashion?"

"But what about Pansy?" Harry felt his resolve weaken as Draco kissed along his jaw line. "You know she'll just come and fetch us if we're not out there in a minute."

"Hmm, you may have a point," Draco mused, stepping back. Harry wanted to say that, No, he didn't have a point and could Draco just go right back to what he had been doing please. There was an all too familiar tightness in his trousers, and no imminent prospect of release.

Draco removed their shrunken trunks from his pocket and swiftly resized them. Harry waited patiently while his boyfriend changed his cloak and couldn't help smiling when the blond wrapped himself in a warm scarf.

"What?" Draco asked defensively. "Its winter out there and I catch cold easily."

Harry stepped closer to his boyfriend, unable to keep the silly grin off his face at the sight of Draco winding a Gryffindor scarf round his slender neck. He reached out and knotted it securely. "Am I ever getting this back?"

"It's unlikely," Draco admitted. "I've grown quite attached."

"I never thought I'd see the day when Draco Malfoy would voluntarily wear Gryffindor colours."

"True. But I don't imagine you ever thought you'd see the day when you'd have my cock in your mouth either."

This image, on top of their earlier activities, banished the remainder of Harry's self control. He grabbed the front of Draco's cloak so fast that the blond stumbled into his arms.

"Falling for me, Malfoy?" he teased.

Before Draco could retort, he found himself being kissed rather thoroughly by a horny Gryffindor.

"Merlin! Don't you two ever come up for air?"

They both turned their heads at this, and found Pansy stood in the doorway, smirking.

"Call me a stickler for tradition, if you will, Pansy. But whatever happened to knocking before entering a room?" The 'Malfoy glare' was firmly in place now.

"You should lock your door," was all Pansy said in reply, shrugging. "I hope you

two don't plan to do this all holidays."

"I could say the same to you, Pansy," was Draco's arch reply.

"Don't start sulking, Drakie. It's time for shopping, c'mon."

And with those magic words, Draco's scowl vanished and his eyes brightened perceptibly.

* * *

After a quick trip to Gringotts, the five friends hit the shops, although the Gryffindor's were noticeably less enthusiastic than their Slytherin counterparts.

A couple of 'panic buying' filled hours later and Harry dragged a reluctant Draco in the direction of Weasley's Wizarding Wheeze's.

"But I don't need anything from in there," he had whined. But it was to no avail, and Draco resigned himself to more 'redheaded encounters of the Weasley kind'.

George was busy serving as they entered. At the sound of the door, he looked up and grinned in acknowledgement. It was then that Harry noticed that Charlie

Weasley was present too.

Harry browsed the shelves for a few minutes while he waited for George to finish with his customer. Draco practically glued himself to his boyfriend's side the whole time. When he felt a sharp tug on his sleeve and turned to see worried grey eyes fixed on him.

"What's wrong?"

Draco nodded his head in the direction of the two approaching Weasley's.

"You don't think they'll want to hug me as well, do you?"

"I shouldn't think so," Harry laughed. "But don't eat or drink anything that George offers you," he added as an afterthought.

By the time the two boys left the shop a short while later, they had pockets fully of WWW's finest products, and had agreed to George and Charlie joining them on their night out. In fact, George seemed especially keen on the idea and offered to take them to a club he frequented.

Harry and Draco headed back to the Leaky Cauldron where they found the other three waiting impatiently for them to arrive, before eating dinner. Once their food arrived, Draco outlined the plan for the evening. Blaise was particularly intrigued by news of George's club, especially when informed that the dress code was 'anything goes.' Harry and Neville, on the other hand, both wore looks of horror at this, especially when they caught the gleams in their respective boyfriend's eyes.

* * *

A loud wolf whistle sounded as Harry and Draco entered Pansy's room. Draco preened at the compliment, while Harry just looked vaguely uncomfortable.

"Don't you two look nice?"

"Nice, Pansy? Don't you mean hot?"

Harry blushed as Blaise ran an appraising eye over his body. Suddenly his outfit felt much more of a bad idea than it did when Draco had persuaded him to wear it.

"See, Harry. I told you, you looked good. Now stop fidgeting, those jeans aren't too tight, they're meant to be that way." There was a tone to Draco's voice that told anyone listening that this wasn't the first time he had had cause to say this.

Harry made a disbelieving sort of noise, but stopped tugging at his trousers

nonetheless.

Glancing at his friends, Harry noticed that Blaise had taken the dress code literally. He was sporting a pair of black 'wet look' jeans, that clung sinfully to his muscly legs. And on his top half, he was wearing a black short sleeved shirt made out of, what Harry believed to be, fishnet. And as the Italian boy moved, Harry caught the glint of his nipple piercing.

Before leaving the room, Pansy cast a quick disillusionment charm on both Harry and Draco. The two boys had attracted quite a bit of attention when in Diagon Alley earlier. The last thing either of them wanted was for their night out to end up splashed all over the front pages of the Prophet. And knowing the wizarding world's current thirst for anything related to their 'Saviour', they both knew this was a real possibility.

George and Charlie were waiting for them on the Muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron. The redheads eyed their group in puzzlement.

"Where are Harry and Malfoy?" George asked.

"Right here, George," said the thin air to the left of them. "Pansy, take the charm off would you?"

As the two boys appeared, a wide grin spread over George's face. "Look at ickle Harry, all grown up. If Ron could see you now."

"Shut up," Harry muttered darkly, his cheeks flushing.

"Ignore him, Harry. You look great." Harry smiled gratefully at Charlie

When they arrived at the club, their group was waved on through by a friendly doorman, who seemed to know George particularly well, judging from the way his tongue slid into the redhead's mouth eagerly.

"Friend of yours?" Charlie enquired.

"One of many," George answered, a devilish smirk on his face.

Inside the club was already busy. The loud music pulsing through the air over a dance floor already filled with sweaty bodies. No sooner had he spotted this, than Blaise grabbed hold of Neville's hand and pulled his protesting boyfriend

into the heaving throng

Charlie sent Harry and Draco off in search of a table for them, while he, Pansy and George made their way to the bar.

"Have you noticed anything unusual about this place?" Harry wanted to know.

"Well, it's Muggle, so that's unusual for starters," Draco owned.

"Yeah, but look at the other people. Like those two over there, for instance." Harry pointed discreetly in the direction of two men, who were currently petting very heavily.

Draco seemed confused by this. "What's unusual about that? We do it all the time."

"Yes, but it's different in the Muggle world," Harry insisted. "There's lots of prejudice against gay people."

Draco really looked puzzled now. "Really? I always knew Muggles were stupid."

The others arrived back with drinks at this point. "Figured it out yet?" George wanted to know, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Realisation dawned in Harry's eyes. "It's a gay club."

"Sure is. I thought you guys might appreciate it."

"George," Harry said urgently, a pointed look in Charlie's direction.

"It's okay, I told him. Don't worry, he won't say anything."

Harry didn't quite know what he could say to that, so he looked to Draco to see how he was taking the news. The blond seemed to be handling it with his usual aplomb and took advantage of this development to move his seat closer to his boyfriend and place a territorial hand on his thigh.

"Just in case anyone gets any ideas," he explained when Harry looked at him in surprise. Again, that warm fuzzy feeling spread through Harry's chest at the sound of possessive note in Draco's voice and he relaxed into the touch.

Sipping at the pint that Charlie had got for him, Harry took the opportunity to have a good look round. It was the first time that he had been in a club of any kind, straight or gay. From the outside, it had looked almost like a warehouse, but the inside was completely different. It was bigger than he had expected, and warmer too.

After only a few moments inside, Harry realised just how superfluous his coat was, and quickly stripped it off to reveal the tight fitting, black, chiffon shirt that he was wearing. At Draco's insistence, only the middle three buttons were fastened, showing a large portion of Harry's torso to anyone who cared to look.

The tight black jeans rode dangerously low on his hips, so much so, that he daren't lean forward in his seat for fear of revealing too much. Though, as his eyes scanned over the crowd, he began to realise that the bit of flesh he had on show wasn't even going to raise an eyebrow.

Harry tried his hardest not to stare, but it was immensely difficult. Having been raised in a world where homosexuality was something to be ashamed of, he struggled to accept seeing it flaunted so blatantly.

The sight of so many barely dressed men, pressed close together, dancing, kissing, and in a lot of cases, groping furiously, was a revelation to him. His Uncle Vernon and Dudley had been unashamedly homophobic. Their attitude had left Harry with the impression that it was something to be hidden away, something dirty. To see it celebrated so openly, Harry felt a weight lift off his shoulders that he hadn't realised he was still carrying.

"Harry? Harry, are you listening?"

Dragged from his musings, Harry turned to face his boyfriend. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Pansy and I are going to dance. Are you coming?" There was a look on his face that said he already knew the answer to the question and that he was just asking to be polite.

"I think I'll just stay here and keep Charlie company. We don't want the only straight man in the group getting hit on! You don't mind do you?"

Harry didn't even catch Draco's answer; he practically dragged Pansy into the throng of sweaty bodies and soon disappeared from sight.

"So..."

Harry held his breath, nervous about what Charlie was going to say now that he knew his secret.

"You and Malfoy, eh? Now that's something I never thought I'd see."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at this. "You and me both."

The older redhead leaned in closer, so as to be heard over the pumping music. "Don't look so nervous, Harry. I'm not about to judge you. If he makes you happy, then I'm happy for you. I'm just glad to see you smiling again."

"He does," Harry admitted softly, a shy smile on his face.

"Just do me one favour?"

"What's that?"

"When you eventually tell Ron, break it to him gently. Otherwise that vein in his

head might just finally pop."

Any tension that had lingered between the two was dispelled with the laughter that followed this remark. Charlie fetched them another couple of drinks and they settled down to some people watching, which in this particular club, turned out to be rather an eye opening experience.

After a while, a flustered looking Neville returned with a pouting Blaise in tow.

"Just let me get my breath back, Blaise. I'm knackered." Neville pleaded with his boyfriend, who appeared to now be sulking.

As Harry raised his drink to his lips, a hand shot out and removed it from his grasp. Looking up, he found his own boyfriend pouting down at him, in much the same fashion that Blaise had just used.

"Hey, I was drinking that."

"And now you're not," Draco retorted smugly. "Come and dance with me

Harrryyy," he whined.

"Just one dance, Harry, or you'll never hear the end of it," Pansy advised.

"Okay, but no laughing at me. You know I can't dance."

"I promise," the blond answered honestly, amazed that the brunette had acquiesced so quickly.

"I guess I'll just sit this one out." Pansy muttered as she watched her friends disappear off, hand in hand.

Seeing her disappointed expression, Charlie stood up and offered her his hand.

"How about we become the token 'hetero' couple of the night?"

Pansy's natural instinct was to shy away from contact with this man that she barely knew. But a quick look at his smiling face, with its warm blue eyes, and all resolve faded.

"Sure, I'd love to," she answered. The words out of her mouth before she even realised she was going to accept.

Draco's eyes widened at the sight of his best friend wrapped in the arms of Charlie Weasley. Harry followed his gaze and was also suitably surprised. Pansy was understandably skittish around strange men, and with the exception of a few very close friends, she almost always ran a mile from any form of contact. To see her now, looking so relaxed, was amazing.

"Relax, Dray," he soothed. "Charlie's a good man and they're just dancing."

"I know. But she's like a sister to me, and after all that happened to her, it's hard not to worry."

However, all thoughts of Pansy and her dancing partner swiftly left the blond's head as Harry wrapped his arms tight round his waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other. The song was a slow one and they were barely moving, other than their hands trailing over each other's bodies.

As he felt his boyfriend's erection pressing against his thigh, Draco leaned closer still and captured his lips in a searing kiss. He tightened his hand on the back of Harry's head, crashing their mouths together, and probed the depths of Harry's mouth with his slick tongue.

They were both completely unaware of the picture they presented to the club's other occupants. Harry's dark hair and olive skin, combined with his black outfit, juxtaposed Draco's pale skin, golden hair and the white version of Harry's outfit that he had chosen to wear.

Many a lustful glance was cast in their direction as they lost themselves in the kiss, oblivious to anything except for the feel of each other.

"Mmmm, that was nice," Harry murmured dazedly, when Draco broke the kiss. He lay his head down on the blond's shoulder, as they swayed softly to the music.

"Don't fall asleep on me," Draco warned, as he felt his boyfriend nuzzle closer into the side of his neck.

As the DJ stuck to playing slower songs, one dance turned into four, before Harry had realised. When they made their way back to the table, they found all the others sat round chatting. Even Blaise seemed to have come out of his funk.

Draco pulled Harry down into his lap and tightened his arms round the smaller boy's waist.

Charlie couldn't help but smile at this. "You two are adorable, you do realise that?"

Pansy gave him a playful swat on the arm. "Don't call them adorable for Merlin's sake. Someone gets very uptight about that." There was a pointed look in Draco's direction and then the pair of them were laughing.

"You two seem to be getting on well." Harry spoke quickly, not allowing his boyfriend the chance to make the biting remark that was on the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, well it turns out we have a bit in common."

"Really?" Draco did not sound at all believing of this statement. "What's that then?"

"Well," Pansy began, a mischievous twinkle in her eye that made Harry just the tiniest bit nervous. "It turns out that we both spend a lot of time dealing with temperamental Dragons."

It took Harry a moment to understand what she was saying, before he too was chuckling along with the rest of his friends – with the exception of one very disgruntled blond.

Harry laid his head back on Draco's shoulder and pressed a tiny kiss just below his ear. The blond's annoyance faded instantly at this touch and he even managed a smile at his best friend.

At that moment, George reappeared, his arms draped round the same doorman that he had snogged earlier.

"I'm off, Charlie. I'll see you in the morning. Night, you guys."

And then he was gone.

"I guess we had better start making tracks too," Charlie suggested.

Blaise looked longingly at the dance floor and was about to protest, but Draco spoke first.

"That's probably a good idea. We've got to be up early in the morning, if we're going to have time to go into Muggle London."

"Not more shopping," Harry groaned, from where his face was now buried in the crook of Draco's neck.

"Come on, sleepyhead, up you get."

Harry stood up, grumbling at having to move. "I was comfy, Dray," he whined.

Draco only grinned and began manipulating the dark haired boy's body into his jacket.

"Yes, Harry," he soothed. "I know it's hot in here, but it's December outside and you'll freeze without it."

The others drained the remainder of their drinks and gathered up their belongings before Charlie led the way out of the club. Once outside, they located a dark alleyway, which they promptly disappeared into and Apparated back to Diagon Alley. Charlie heading off to George's flat, the others seeking their beds in the Leaky Cauldron.

Whatever plans Draco had made for his first real night alone with Harry, were swiftly ruined, when the Gryffindor climbed into bed, fully clothed, and promptly fell straight to sleep.

Quashing his disappointment, Draco settled instead for undressing his boyfriend and tucking him in gently, before pressing a chaste kiss to his sleeping lips and curling himself around the dark haired boy's body.

* * *


	41. Dress For Dinner

**Author Note: After being reassured by numerous people, I have now edited this story and have included the previously missing chapter 38. So, if I haven't emailed it to you already, pop back a few chapters and it's there. I've posted a warning about the content, so hopefully that will be okay!!**

* * *

Despite best intentions, it was mid morning before the group of friends roused themselves. After a quick breakfast, Neville and Blaise bid farewell to the others and departed for their respective homes.

Harry, Draco and Pansy headed out of the Leaky Cauldron's front door and into Muggle London. Draco was wide eyed, like a small child on Christmas morning, as he took in the sights of a world previously unknown to him. Pansy was not far behind in her wonderment, although she seemed to manage to hide it better. Even to Harry, who had been raised Muggle, London was always something of an eye opener.

Negotiating the Underground proved to be their first test, and it was some time before they managed it and reached their destination – the shops of Oxford Street. Harry worried that the confusion would produce one of the tantrums that Draco was famed for, but the blond seemed to find it all part of the charm.

All three of them had changed some Galleons into Pounds to enable their shopping, and Harry had been slightly alarmed at the amount of cash that Draco was currently carrying around in his pocket. That was until the blond assured him that his wallet was charmed so that only he could remove it.

After an hour or so of very productive shopping, Draco was seized with a sudden desire to see 'the sights'. He cajoled Harry into taking them on a bus tour around the city, and horrified his friends by insisting on sitting on the open top deck. To Harry's alarm, he then proceeded to cast a Warming Charm over them to keep the winter chill at bay.

He eschewed the official tour commentary in favour of badgering Harry with incessant questions about the places they saw. Harry did his best to remember his primary school history lessons and the one school trip he had been allowed to attend, but Draco's thirst for information proved unquenchable and finally his boyfriend was forced to admit defeat. He placated the blond with a promise to buy him a guide book at the very next stop.

They made a brief stop in Trafalgar Square, where Draco was moved to comment that the Christmas tree was rather like the one in the entrance hall at the Manor. Harry was faintly alarmed by this and was greatly relieved when Pansy reassured him that his boyfriend was exaggerating grossly. They then watched in amusement as Draco happily fed the ever present Pigeons, until one brave feathered creature left a small 'present' on the blond's sleeve. That was the end of that particular activity, and nearly the end of that particular bird.

The Houses of Parliament impressed Draco to no end. That was what a government building should look like, he stated firmly, drawing unfavourable comparisons with their own Ministry building. He enthused about the imposing architecture to such an extent that Pansy threatened to remove him bodily from the moving bus if he didn't stop.

They then went on to Buckingham Palace, which Harry remembered as having been his favourite sight as a child. The scale and grandeur of the building had amazed the small boy, so used to the confines of his cupboard. He was surprised then, when Draco remained unimpressed. The blond sniffed and mumbled something about "It's okay, I suppose." Confused, Harry had turned to Pansy, who in turn explained that Draco was merely sulking because it was bigger than his own home.

Their last stop of the day, much to Harry's relief, was a trip to Harrods. Harry had never been there himself, but his Aunt Petunia had always come back from her jaunts to the city talking in awed tones about the store. Best that Harry could figure, was that if Draco had been a Muggle, this was the kind of shop he would frequent.

It proved to be an immensely popular choice. At the sight of so much luxury under one roof, Draco's eyes had bugged in anticipation. He had shooed Harry and Pansy away, claiming they would slow him down, and dismissed his boyfriend's protests about his lack of experience with Muggle retailing.

When they met up again an hour later, Harry was amused by the sight of the blond, laden down with bags, an almost fanatical gleam in his eye. Only Pansy reminding him that his mother was expecting them for dinner curtailed his spending spree.

At this reminder of their ultimate destination, the familiar knot of anxiety formed in Harry's stomach.

They made their way back across London, this time in a black taxi – at Draco's insistence. It was starting to get dark and all three of them sat gazing out of the windows, marvelling at the Christmas lights that were twinkling brightly against the dusky sky.

Once safely back within the familiar surroundings of the Leaky Cauldron, Draco shrunk their purchases and stowed them safely in his pocket. He then took hold of Harry's arm and nodded to Pansy, before side-along Apparating his boyfriend without a further word.

They appeared just outside a pair of stately wrought iron gates. The large ornate 'M' at the centre gave away their location, had they not already known it.

"Bloody hell, Draco!" Harry protested as he stumbled to hold his footing. "You might want to give me a bit of warning next time you do that."

"Pfft. You would have just complained even more. I know how much you hate Apparating."

Harry huffed and turned his attention, warily, towards the gate. "How come we're here? I half expected you to take me straight into your bedroom."

"Eager much, Harry?" Draco smirked. "We can't Apparate inside the grounds. Well, rather, you can't. The wards are only set to allow family members, oh and Pansy, of course. I'll speak to Mother about adjusting them for you."

"You don't have to do that," Harry protested. "Your mum probably won't want to."

"Of course she will. Don't be so silly. You're as much a part of my family now as Pansy is." He grabbed hold of Harry's shoulders and tugged the smaller boy in for a brief, hard kiss.

"I know I don't have to," he murmured against Harry's lips. "I want to."

Before anymore could be said, there was a loud crack and Pansy appeared.

"Did you get lost, Parkinson?" Draco enquired coolly.

"Not at all, Drakie. I simply thought I would give you two lovebirds a moment alone first."

"What on earth for?"

Pansy only arched her eyebrows and stared pointedly at where Draco's hands still clutched Harry to him. Draco scowled at Pansy, who simply grinned in return, completely unfazed.

The blond let his arms fall from his boyfriend's side and removed hi s wand from up his sleeve. Harry started for a moment, thinking he was about to hex Pansy. He was relieved to see that the blond had turned his attention to the formal gateway. Wand pressed against the ornate 'M', he muttered some words that Harry didn't quite catch, and then held out his hand.

"Come on."

Harry clasped his hand and followed. He was surprised to note that instead of the gates opening to allow them entry, they simply shimmered and allowed the three of them to walk straight through.

The gravel drive crunched underfoot as they made their way towards the stately manor house. Flaming torches were burning at intervals, lighting their way.

As he retraced the steps he had once taken under much more unpleasant circumstances, Harry was relieved to find that it all seemed blessedly unfamiliar. But, as he recalled, at the time his eyes had been almost swollen shut from Hermione's Stinging Hex, so it wasn't too surprising.

As a result, he found his breath caught in his throat as he took in the sheer scale of Draco's ancestral home.

As the driveway widened in front of the house, an ornate fountain bubbled away merrily. The light twinkled through the multitude of diamond paned windows, giving off a surprisingly welcoming feel. As they drew nearer to the heavy wooden doors, they suddenly opened, the bright shaft of light almost blinding against the darkness.

Harry automatically assumed it was a servant of some sort come to greet them - a house elf maybe. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he was startled to see the graceful figure of Narcissa Malfoy framed in the doorway.

Draco dropped his hand and hurried forward to embrace her.

"Mother," he cried. "It's so good to be home."

"It hasn't been the same without you here, Dragon," Narcissa replied, drawing her son into a warm embrace.

Harry hung back nervously as he watched first Draco, then Pansy, welcomed by the lady of the house. He couldn't take his eyes from Narcissa's face, at a loss to reconcile her warmth with the cold, aloof persona that he had always associated with her.

Before he could think further, Draco had hold of his hand and was tugging him forward.

"Mother, this is Harry."

The warm smile turned in his direction and Harry couldn't help but bask in its glow.

"Mr Potter, it's a pleasure to welcome you to our home."

"It's Harry, please. And thank you for inviting me."

"Well, Harry, we couldn't have you spending Christmas alone. Besides," she continued in a conspiratorial manner, "my son wouldn't have given me a moment's peace otherwise. He can be quite the handful, you know?"

There was a definite twinkle in her eye and Harry found he couldn't help but respond in kind.

"Hey! I am here, you know."

"Oh hush, Draco. It's true and you know it."

Draco glared at Pansy once again, but it was wasted as the girl had already turned and entered the house. As he followed, Harry couldn't help but be impressed by the grandeur of the large entrance hall. He was no expert, but the carpets that graced the stone floor, looked extremely expensive, and the silk wall coverings only added to the sumptuous appearance.

It was a large space, dominated by an imposing staircase to the centre, that rose proudly and then split off towards the various wings of the house. Next to it stood a large stately Christmas tree that was dressed in Slytherin hues of green and silver, much to Harry's amusement. Though he had to admit that Draco hadn't been that far off with his comparison to the one adorning Trafalgar Square.

A crack startled him out of his reverie. He turned and saw Narcissa addressing a wide eyed house-elf.

"Tilly, please take Master Draco's and his friend's belongings up to their rooms and have them unpacked."

The elf squeaked in, what Harry assumed was agreement and then it waited patiently while they produced their shrunken trunks and various items of shopping.

"Harry, perhaps you would like to go through to the sitting room? I believe there is someone in there that is eager for your arrival. Pansy will show you the way, won't you dear?"

"Of course," Pansy nodded in agreement.

"I'll send one of the elves in with some refreshments. I'm sure you've had a very tiring day. Draco and shops always were an exhausting combination." She paused here and her laughter tinkled softly at the outraged look on her son's face.

"You'll forgive me if I steal Draco away from you for a short while. It has been some months and we have much to catch up on."

Harry blushed a little at this, fairly certain that his relationship with the blond would be the hot topic of that particular conversation.

Leading her son into the drawing room, Narcissa settled herself in her favourite chair and looked at Draco expectantly.

For his part, Draco was too nervous to sit. He wasn't entirely sure why. He knew his mother was aware of his relationship with Harry, yet he couldn't entirely suppress the butterflies that filled his tummy as he turned to face those calm blue eyes.

"You look well, Mother," he began, stalling for time."Thank you, darling, as do you. You have certainly changed from the dour young man that left here in August. Something, or should I say, someone obviously agrees with you."

Choosing to ignore that rather obvious lead in to the subject, Draco chose instead to choose another topic.

"How is Father?"

Allowing herself to be sidetracked for the moment, Narcissa's smile faded a little.

"He is as well as can be expected in that grim place. His health is much improved though. Oh, that reminds me. We have been given permission to visit him on the 23rd; they are even allowing us to take him a Christmas gift. Providing it is off their pre-approved list, of course."

Draco couldn't hide his pleasure at this news; it had been some time since he had last seen his father. "That's wonderful, Mother." Then his smile faded perceptibly.

"What is it, Draco? It isn't so bad there now, not now the Dementors have gone."

Draco shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's just...do you think I should tell him?"

"Tell him what?" Narcissa enquired, faintly puzzled by her son's rapidly changing mood.

"About me and Harry," he whispered.

"Harry and I," Narcissa corrected, unable to help herself. "Do you want to tell him?"

Draco nodded slightly, not meeting his mother's gaze. "Harry's important to me and I want Father to know that. Plus, the more time he has to get used to the idea, the better."

"If you are ready to tell him, then I think that you should. He's your father and nothing will change how much he loves you."

Draco raised sceptical eyes to meet his mother's. Seeing his expression, Narcissa sighed deeply.

"Look at it this way, then. Your father is a consummate politician. He cannot fail to realise the advantages to the family name of having you involved with Harry Potter. That very thing could restore it like nothing else could."

"But that's not what this is about, Mother," Draco protested vehemently. "I don't care about that. If I did, I would hardly be keeping our relationship secret."

"Control yourself. I didn't think for a minute that that was your reason. I'm just trying to explain to you that your father will most likely see it from that angle and, as such, will raise little objection."

"I love him," Draco blurted out, before hanging his head as he felt the heat of embarrassment in his face.

Narcissa rose from her chair and made her way over to where Draco stood in front of the imposing marble fireplace.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Draco. Indeed I doubt you could have chosen a worthier recipient of your affections." She paused here and reached out her hand to tip her son's face upwards.

"And Harry? How does he feel?"

"I-I think, well, I hope that he might feel the same. We've never said it though."

"I'm sure he does, Draco. I doubt very much whether he would have come here if he didn't. It cannot be easy for him, returning here."

Draco's face fell at this reminder of his families involvement in Harry's many sufferings.

"Stop that," Narcissa admonished. "What's past is done. If your young man can rise above such memories, then I am sure that we can also. Now, why don't we go next door? Your Aunt Andromeda is through there and is very keen to meet her nephew."

Draco placed a warm kiss on his mother's smooth cheek and, linking her arm through his, escorted her in the direction of the sitting room.

As they neared the door, Narcissa hesitated. When Draco turned to face his mother, he saw a mixture of nerves and apprehension in her face.

"Mother?"

"Draco, before we go in there, there is something I should tell you about your aunt. It's nothing to be alarmed at, but I just want to prepare you."

Draco nodded, his expression far calmer than he actually felt. His mind doing overtime coming up with various possible explanations, each more unpleasant than the last.

"It's just that, when you first see her...she looks a lot like-"

"Bellatrix," Draco finished for her, a faint shudder running through him at the thought of his dead aunt, but also feeling relief that it was nothing more serious.

"You know? How is that possible? You've never met her and it isn't like I had pictures of her round the house when you were growing up."

"Harry has pictures of her," Draco explained. "It's okay, Mother. I know that she is nothing like...her." He fairly spat out the last word.

Narcissa opened her mouth to speak, but a quick look at the tension on her son's face made her think better of it.

As the door opened, grey eyes scanned quickly round the room. As they settled on the newcomer, Draco headed towards her, determined to get it over with as soon as possible.

The dark haired lady, sat next to Pansy on the sofa, stood up at his approach. As he raised his eyes to meet her steady gaze, Draco couldn't help but falter slightly before regaining his composure quickly. Not quickly enough that Harry didn't notice how his face blanched at the sight of his aunt. Then, Andromeda smiled and her face lit up with a warmth that had been completely absent in his other aunt's cold features, and Draco wondered how he could have ever confused them.

"Draco, it's a pleasure to meet you at last. I've heard so much about you."

Draco assumed that this must have come from his mother, but the twinkle in his aunt's eyes, and the brief glance she shot at Harry, told him that her information had come from a completely different source.

"Been telling tales on me, Harry?" he teased.

"It was all good, I assure you," his aunt hastened to explain, while Harry only smiled up at his boyfriend from his seat on the floor, a chuckling baby settled in his lap.

Despite having seen pictures of Teddy Lupin, the shock of bright blue hair currently adorning the baby's head, still came as something of a surprise.

Spying this new person for the first time, Teddy crawled off of Harry's lap and rapidly made his way over the floor to where Draco stood. Startling the blond with the speed at which he could move on all fours.

Teddy's pudgy fists grabbed at expensively tailored trousers, and Harry winced in anticipation of Draco's reaction. His fears proved unfounded, as Draco bent down and scooped the chuckling baby up in his arms. To the amusement of all, not only did Teddy look completely at home in Draco's arms, but before their eyes, his blue hair had lengthened and faded to a pale blond.

"You've certainly got a fan there, Draco," his aunt said. "Teddy only does that for his favourite people."

"They do say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," Narcissa added.

The blond's eyes widened at this and he gazed down at the child in his arms. Draco had little to no experience with babies and was surprised at how relaxed he felt with Teddy's warm body cuddled up to him. The baby was currently gurgling happily and blowing spit bubbles from his rosy lips, something Draco thought should have repulsed him, but didn't. He grinned at the sight and was rewarded with a wide toothless smile in return.

"When you're quite finished charming everyone, it's time for your bath, young man."

Teddy looked up at the sound of his grandmother's voice, and Draco could have sworn that his baby lips pouted slightly. Andromeda held out her hands and Teddy tumbled into them without further protest.

After receiving goodnight kisses from Narcissa, Pansy, and Harry, Teddy turned to Draco expectantly. The blond found himself pressing a gentle kiss against surprisingly soft cheeks.

"You're just a big softy at heart, aren't you?" Harry teased.

Narcissa stepped forward and spoke softly before her son had time to retort.

"Why don't you three go on up and dress for dinner. The elves should have finished unpacking your trunks by now. Draco, I've put Harry in the guest room across from yours. Pansy, dear, you know which room is yours."

"Okay, Mother. Come on you two." Draco turned and led the way from the room, waiting till the door had closed behind them before taking Harry's hand and squeezing gently.

"Draco, when your mum said 'dress for dinner', what did she mean?"

"What? They don't wear clothes to eat in over at the Weasel's house?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."

Seeing the agitation on his boyfriend's face, Draco relented. "She meant, dress up for dinner. We always have a formal dinner on my first night home. It's sort of a tradition."

Then, seeing the unease on Harry's face, he added, "Don't worry, it's only the first night. It'll be much more relaxed after tonight."

Harry still looked concerned. "But I don't have any formal clothes. I left my dress robes back at school."

Draco grinned. "Actually, you have brought them with you, you just didn't realise it. I had Longbottom pack them in your trunk without you knowing."

"Why do that?" Harry was confused by the seemingly unnecessary subterfuge. "Why not just tell me to pack them?"

"Because," Draco began, in a tone that said he thought the answer should be plainly obvious, "you would have freaked out at the thought. At least this way, you only have half an hour to worry, instead of days."

"Git," Harry muttered.

"Maybe, but that doesn't make it any less true."

They paused outside a dark wooden door and Draco reached out for the knob. Turning it and swinging the door open with a flourish; he placed his hand in the small of Harry's back and gave him a gentle shove.

"All your stuff should be in the wardrobe ready for you. I've had Tilly press your robes, just in case. I'll be back for you in half an hour, don't be late." Grey eyes travelled up to Harry's head, "And do something with your hair, for Merlin's sake."

Harry ran his fingers through the bird's nest that was currently masquerading as his hair. "You know you love it really," he teased.

Draco reached out and gently brushed a stray lock off Harry's face. "I do," he admitted. "But somehow I doubt that my mother will be similarly enamoured."

When Harry and Draco entered the dining room later that evening, it was to find the ladies of the house sat, waiting for them.

"Nice of you to join us, boys."Harry turned guiltily to face Narcissa, words of apology ready on his lips. But before he could get the words out, Pansy spoke up.

"Hope we didn't drag you away from anything too...urgent," she smirked knowingly, her gaze flitting meaningfully to rest on Harry's dishevelled hair, that had been quite neat up until Draco had ravished him on the stairs.

Draco only smiled lazily at this, while Harry, who had never been so good at hiding his emotions, flushed darkly. His embarrassment was not helped any when Draco led him to his seat and insisted on pulling out the chair for him. It was the sort of chivalrous behaviour that usually left Harry with a warm fuzzy feeling. But here, in Draco's home, under the gaze of his mother, it only served to make Harry's embarrassment more acute.

"My apologies for our lateness, Mother." Draco slid into the seat next to Harry and discreetly placed his hand on his boyfriend's leg.

"Not a problem, darling," Narcissa replied smoothly. "Harry, I trust you found your room to your satisfaction?"

"It's lovely, thank you," Harry smiled weakly at his hostess.

Draco squeezed his leg gently. "Relax, Harry," he murmured.

Which was easier said than done, Harry thought. Especially when he noticed the sheer volume of cutlery and glassware that currently occupied the table. How on earth he was ever going to make it through dinner without disgracing himself, he didn't know.

Draco sensed his tension and, seeing that the women were now occupied with their own conversation, he leant over.

"What's wrong?" his voice was full of concern.

"It's all this." Harry indicated his place setting with a wave of his hand. "I don't have a clue where to start."

"Oh, that's all," Draco was relieved that it wasn't something more serious.

"It may seem nothing to you, Draco," Harry retorted hotly. "But we didn't all grow up eating like this." He paused for a moment and chewed nervously on his lip. "I just want to make a good impression. I don't want your mum to think you are going out with a complete peasant."

The earnest expression on his boyfriends face and the honesty of his confession caused a tightening in Draco's chest. "Keep talking like that and you're going to get very lucky tonight."

And Harry grinned despite himself.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Draco reassured him, referring back to the original subject. "Just follow what I do and you'll be fine."

Harry looked like he was about to dispute this, but the conversation was ended by the arrival of several house elves, and their starter was served.

Harry remained virtually silent throughout the first course. All of his attention focussed on his valiant attempt to consume his soup without any of it ending up on his robes, or on the very expensive looking table cloth. Not that he was a particularly messy eater, but he figured it would be just his luck for some to slop down him in front of Narcissa.

He relaxed a little during the main course, and allowed himself to pay attention to the conversation going on around him. Draco was excitedly regaling his mother with stories of Muggle London. Narcissa listened politely, though Harry suspected she was not overly tempted to stray from the wizarding world. Only at the mention of their visit to Harrods did real interest show in her face, and Harry reflected that when it came to retail therapy, Draco was very much his mother's son.

As the meal progressed, Harry started to understand where his boyfriend's obsession with table manners stemmed from. Somehow, the elegant setting of this dining room didn't allow for even the slightest failing in table etiquette. Harry grinned to himself at the thought of Ron and tried to imagine him dining there, bolting his food, elbows on the table, and his food visible to all as he talked. Not that Harry was particularly offended by the thought of it, just that he now understood why Draco would be.

The appearance of the elves to clear the main course away caused another small smile to cross Harry's face. As amusing as it was to imagine Ron, it would be infinitely more entertaining to see Hermione's outraged reaction at being waited on by numerous enslaved house elves. The thought of his friend pinning a S.P.E.W. badge to Narcissa's elegant robes had him biting his lip to keep from laughing.

Then desert was served and Harry thought of very little else, other than the large slice of treacle tart that now lay in front of him. He looked up briefly and caught Narcissa smiling back at him.

"I seem to remember reading in _Witch Weekly_ that this was your favourite."

"It's delicious, thank you." And as the first bite practically melted in his mouth, Harry truly meant it.

Once dinner was over, Narcissa excused herself and Andromeda as they retired to the drawing room for coffee. She waved the three teenagers off, bidding them, "Keep yourselves occupied till bed time, and don't be late."

There was a gleam in Draco's eyes at this, and judging by the way his hand slid up Harry's thigh, he obviously had some strong ideas on just how they could keep themselves amused.

The three friends headed back upstairs in the direction of Draco's room. When they entered, Harry was surprised to note, not just the scale of the room, but that instead of the Slytherin green he had expected, Draco's room was largely decorated in midnight blue, with accents of silver.

The blond tugged the hangings back on his four poster bed and sank down onto the mattress, indicating to his friends to follow suit. Harry perched at the head of the bed, leaning back on the numerous pillows. He felt something digging in his back and reached behind him to locate the source of his discomfort.

As his fingers closed round something soft and plush, a smile crossed his face as he realised just what it might be. Pulling the item out from under the bed clothes, he found himself clutching a well worn, and obviously much loved, stuffed lion.

He turned to Draco with amusement in his eyes.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" He asked, unable to help himself.

Draco only scowled and muttered something about, "bloody elves."

"Harry, meet Rory. Rory is Draco's oldest and dearest friend. Not that wild Hippogriffs would drag that confession out of him."

Harry couldn't help it, he had to giggle. The thought of Draco cuddling up to a stuffed animal was cute enough, but that said animal could pass easily for the Gryffindor Lion, was just...well, words failed him.

"Draco picked him out when he was four. Lucius was mortified and tried to tempt him with various stuffed snakes and even dragons, but little Draco only had eyes for his Gryffindor Lion. Sounds a lot like now, come to think of it." Pansy had wisely moved out of striking distance from Draco whilst speaking and she was now grinning at her friend from relative safety.

"Is it Rory because Lions roar, Draco?" Harry teased.

Draco snatched his toy from Harry's arms and glared fiercely at his boyfriend. "Do the words 'mind your own business' mean anything to you two?"

Pansy and Harry shook their heads in unison, both failing to stifle their amusement.

"Well how about the words 'fuck off' then." He settled Rory back down on the pillows and launched himself at Harry.

After a few moments of frantic wrestling, Harry was flat on his back with Draco straddling his waist, pinning his arms over his head.

Their eyes met and Draco leaned in, covering Harry's mouth with his own. He let go of Harry's arms, which promptly slid round his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Harry's lips parted eagerly, allowing access to Draco's tongue. He moaned into the kiss and his hands now slid to the blond's shoulders, sliding off his robes.

Pansy perched on the edge of the bed, transfixed by the erotic sight in front of her. Knowing that, for the moment, both boys had forgotten her presence, she was torn between wanting to watch, and the fact that Draco would likely kill her if she did. Reluctantly she got to her feet and headed to the door.

"I'll leave you two to it," she said. Her hand stilled on the door knob briefly at the sound of a low guttural groan escaping Harry's lips. Then, mentally shaking herself, she turned and left the room.

Hearing the door click behind her, Harry's eyes opened, "Pansy's gone," he murmured against Draco's lips.

"Good, I'm not really that much into being watched."

"Talking of which," Harry smiled and pulled away briefly. Draco whimpered at the loss of contact.

"Harry," he whined.

Harry didn't reply for a moment, he only picked up Draco's stuffed toy and, leaning over the side of the bed, placed him on the floor.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Harry flipped Draco over and their positions were reversed as he straddled the blond's hips. "I don't think he's old enough to see what I am about to do to you," he smirked.

Draco's eyes lit up with lust. "That sounds like a promise."

Instead of words, Harry let his lips and tongue answer the question.


	42. Subtle Intricacies Of Childcare

When Harry woke the next morning he felt disorientated and unsure of where he was. Then he felt an arm slide round his waist and he rolled over to look at the sleeping face of his boyfriend.

Harry could tell from Draco's steady breathing that he was still asleep. Unable to resist the angelic picture that the sleeping blond made, Harry leant forward and pressed tiny kisses to each closed eyelid. Draco murmured softly at the gentle pressure but otherwise remained lost in his dreams. And very good dreams the must be, Harry thought to himself as he felt Draco's erection nudge his thigh.

A smirk crossed his face at this and he began to shimmy under the covers, intent on waking the blond in the most delicious way possible.

No sooner had he begun gently suckling Draco's arousal, Harry was startled from his task by a loud crack, followed by a nervous sounding cough. Flushed with embarrassment at being caught in such a compromising position, Harry reluctantly slid his head out from under the safety of the covers.

He was faintly relieved to find an anxious looking house elf standing at the foot of the bed, hands twisting nervously in its pillowcase.

"Hello," Harry said after a moment's silence. The elf was obviously as uncomfortable as he was. He fumbled on the side for his glasses and squinted back at the small creature.

"I'm Harry," he began, wanting to ease the elf's discomfort. "I think I saw you at dinner last night. What's your name?"

The elf started at this, unused to such courtesy from guests at the Manor. "I is Twinkle, Sir," The elf squeaked, eyes wide.

"Hello, Twinkle," Harry smiled. "So what can we do for you? I assume someone sent you here?"

The elf nodded furiously, "Yes, Sir. The Mistress bid me come wake you and young Master Draco. She is wanting you to come down for breakfast before she has to leave."

It didn't escape Harry's attention that the elf cast an uneasy look in the direction of the sleeping blond. He chuckled to himself, knowing only too well just how moody Draco could be first thing in the morning.

"It's okay, Twinkle. I'll wake Draco up; you tell your Mistress that we will be down shortly."

The elf nodded gratefully and bestowed upon Harry an adoring smile that reminded him just a little of the way Dobby used to look at him. Then there was another loud crack and Harry found himself gazing upon an empty space.

Reluctantly, Harry reached over and gave the sleeping blond a gentle shake. "Draco! C'mon, wake up.""Mmmpf," was the muffled reply.

"Draco!" Harry tried again, a little sharper this time.

"Don't wanna," Draco protested sleepily. "Was havin a nice dream."

"Oh really, I hope it was about me," Harry teased.

Draco cracked open one bleary eye, "Of course," he huffed. Then a smile crossed his lips, "You were waking me up in the nicest way."

Harry chuckled. "That was no dream."

Another eye cracked open at this and Draco pulled up the bed sheets to peer down at his body. "Either I've got incredible stamina, which I'll admit is possible, or you didn't finish the job."

"I got a little distracted," Harry confessed with a wry smile.

"What could possibly be more important?" Draco pouted.

"We had an audience," Harry replied simply.

"Fucking Pansy," Draco scowled. "She's such a bloody perv."

Harry couldn't restrain a giggle at this. "As disturbing an image as that would have been, I think that Pansy watching us would have been infinitely preferable to being caught blowing the Master's son, by one of his house-elves."

Draco chucked throatily on hearing this. "I can see how that would be off-putting."

"That's one way of describing it. I'm glad you find it amusing. I could be scarred for life, you know? I may never be able to give another blow job again." Harry declared in a melodramatic fashion that he had definitely borrowed from his boyfriend.

Draco wrapped his arms tightly round Harry. "We definitely wouldn't want that," he murmured huskily. "I can't think of a nicer way to start the day." Grey eyes widened and scanned round the room. "I don't see any elves around now, so how about it?" He asked, one eyebrow quirked.

"When you put it so nicely, how can I possibly refuse?"

"Beats me." Draco flipped the covers back off them, revealing both their naked bodies. He turned lust filled eyes on his boyfriend and quickly tightened the embrace.

"Dray, we can't," Harry gasped as a tongue licked up the side of his neck.

"Sure we can, Harry. Just relax."

"But your mum," Harry began.

Draco rolled off his boyfriend with a huff and lay flat on his back. "You really need to work on your dirty talk, you know?"

Harry bit back a laugh. "Your mum sent the elf. She wants us down at breakfast."

"Not helping, Harry," Draco complained as he cast a mournful glance at his waning erection. "At least I won't need to have a cold shower now."

With that, the blond sat up and gave Harry's bare thigh a playful slap. "C'mon then, it's been at least five minutes since the last elf, and my mother isn't exactly renowned for her patience. The next one will probably be along any minute."

Harry let out a squawk at this piece of information and hurriedly retrieved his trousers from where they lay, strewn on the floor.

"You go shower quickly," Draco advised. "I'll come get you in 15 minutes."

Harry cast a longing gaze at the naked figure of his boyfriend as Draco disappeared into his private bathroom. He had rather been looking forward to them showering together. But that would have to wait now, thanks to Narcissa Malfoy and her voyeuristic bloody house-elves.Of all the ways that Harry had imagined spending his first day at Malfoy manor, none of them came anywhere near to the reality.

* * *

Both boys dragged themselves down to breakfast eventually, only to be informed by Narcissa that she and her sister were going to Diagon Alley for the day, in order to purchase some items for their visit to Lucius the following day. This meant that Harry and Draco, along with Pansy, were being left in charge of Teddy for the majority of the day.

Andromeda said with a smile, that she thought it was a marvellous chance for Harry to get to know his godson. Harry rather suspected it was just a marvellous chance for Andromeda to get to know the shops of Diagon Alley, without the distraction of a small child. Not that he minded spending time with Teddy, nor did he begrudge the boy's grandmother some time to herself.

There had followed a seemingly endless lecture on the subtle intricacies of childcare. So in depth was it, that even Harry's good natured politeness became strained. In the end it was Draco who snapped. He coolly informed the two women that perhaps neither of them should actually leave as they obviously thought the three of them were complete imbeciles.

He even took a pointed shot at his mother, by calmly informing her that if help was needed then they could always ask a house-elf, who had, after all, had plenty of experience from practically raising him as a baby. Narcissa wisely chose to ignore this provocation and promptly steered her sister from the room.

The friends then passed a pleasant morning engaged in decorating the Christmas tree for the sitting room. Or rather, Harry and Pansy decorated, Draco supervised and criticised, and baby Teddy had a glorious time rolling about in the tinsel and trying his hardest to pull the tree crashing down on the lot of them.

Every time Draco looked at the small boy it was with a definite air of smugness. Teddy was once again sporting silky blond locks and, as irrational as he knew he was being, it irked Harry no end. Draco, of course, knew this and used the information to torment his boyfriend mercilessly.

As if he had somehow understood the problem, Teddy then promptly placated Harry by smiling up at him with sparkling green eyes.

As he took in the picture that Teddy made with his eyes and Draco's hair, Harry felt a sharp pang in his chest and a definite lump in his throat. Catching Draco's eyes over the small child's head, he saw a similar emotion in the blond's expression.

Neither one of them actually dared to admit what it was they were thinking, but as it turned out, Pansy had no such problems.

"Merlin!" she shrieked. "Look at him; he could be your kid!"

Twin glares shot in her direction but they were short lived. Teddy, slightly on edge from Pansy's excitement, pushed out his tiny bottom lip and whimpered softly. He tumbled towards the safety of 'Uncle Draco', who willingly scooped the nervous boy up in his arms. Harry, in turn, scooted closer and rubbed Teddy's back soothingly until the noises stopped.

"I don't know why you two are sulking," Pansy said, breaking the short silence that followed. "I should be the one offended. He doesn't look anything like me."

"What exactly did you expect him to do, Pansy," Draco demanded. "Grow a pair of tits, perhaps?"

Harry promptly covered Teddy's ears and firmly scolded his boyfriend for using 'bad words' in front of the baby.

As Slytherin as she was, Pansy couldn't deny the warm mushy feeling that filled her at the sight of the three of them, cuddled closely together, like the perfect little family.

* * *

The afternoon was spent showing Harry round the extensive grounds of the Manor. Although in reality, this was little more than an excuse for them to tire out an excitable Teddy. Not that the small boy fell for the ruse, and when three tired teenagers returned to the house some time later, they were accompanied by a wide eyed baby.

He had eventually fallen asleep, cuddled against Harry's chest, as the older boy himself snoozed on the sofa. Draco couldn't take his eyes of the picture his boyfriend made and received a sharp dig in the ribs from his friend.

"Just tell him."

Draco flushed at having been caught out. "Shut up, Pansy."

"Look, why don't you do it now? I'll just disappear." Though not too far away, Pansy thought slyly.

"I'm waiting for the right time," was all Draco was willing to say on the subject.

"Bloody hell, Draco," Pansy cried in exasperation. "How much more right does it get. Just look at him!"

And Draco did just that. Harry's cheek was resting gently on the top of Teddy's blond head, his arms tenderly cradling the small body to him. It was too perfect, and for one awful moment Draco thought he might cry.

Seeing Harry with his godson just reminded Draco of what his boyfriend was giving up, what he himself was giving up, by their being together. There would be no blond-haired, green-eyed children for them, and Draco wasn't sure that he could ask Harry to make another sacrifice in his life.

Sensing her friend's turmoil, Pansy wrapped her arms quickly around him. "Stop it," she chided gently. "He loves you, and you love him. That's all that really matters."

Draco looked like he wanted to dispute this point but a sleepy voice interrupted.

"Hey, Parkinson, that's my boyfriend. Hands off!" Harry grinned up at her through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Sorry, Harry. I just can't help myself around him. You know how it is."

And from the look in Harry's eyes, it was obvious that he did.

"I'll leave you two to it," Pansy yawned. "I'm off for a nap. This baby-sitting lark is really tiring." She left the room, pausing only to shoot a pointed look at Draco.

Harry smiled at his boyfriend and then patted the sofa next to him. "If you're in the mood for cuddling, you could always join us."

Needing no further invitation, Draco swiftly crossed the room and curled himself into the warmth of his boyfriend's body. Harry slipped one arm round him tightly, pulling him closer still. Draco let his head rest on Harry's shoulder and gazed softly at the sleeping baby in his arms. He then closed his eyes and allowed himself to dream, just for a short while, that this was their home, their family.

* * *

That night, as Harry was making his way stealthily across the landing to Draco's room, his ears picked up the sound of muffled noises. Stopping to listen for a moment, he realised that they were coming from Pansy's room. Without thinking, he crept nearer to the door, listening carefully. A few more seconds told him all he needed to know, and within moments he was inside the room, holding the sobbing girl in his arms.

For someone who had always been so uncomfortable with physical displays of emotion, it continually amazed Harry how these Slytherins, who were reputedly cold and unfeeling, never failed to bring out this sensitive and tactile side of his nature.

He rocked Pansy gently in his arms, murmuring soothing words and nonsense noises, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head.

"I wanted to do it so bad," she choked out between sobs.

"But you didn't, you were strong," Harry reassured her, knowing instinctively what she meant.

She didn't speak further and Harry didn't pry, he had a fairly good idea what was upsetting her and he didn't think it would help to make her relive it by questioning her further. He just knew that whenever he had been scared as a child, even as a teenager if he was honest, he had desperately wanted someone to simply hold him and tell him everything was going to be ok.

Slowly, the sobs racking Pansy's body faded, though Harry could still feel her tears, hot against the skin of his neck. Finally, when only the odd tremor ran through her slender frame, Harry gently eased her back down onto the pillows. He gently brushed his thumbs over her tear stained face, before curling up behind her, holding her tenderly.

He almost missed the light knocking on the door, and it was only when he heard it opening that he looked up and watched in horror as Draco entered the room.

He remembered only too well the fit that his boyfriend had thrown simply because he had sat next to Ginny at breakfast. He couldn't begin to imagine the tantrum that would ensue now that he had caught him in Pansy's bed, however innocent it may be.

"You're lucky," Draco began, crossing the room towards the bed, "That I've enjoyed conclusive proof that you prefer men. Otherwise you would be in a world of trouble by now."

"You're not angry at me then?" Harry asked warily, watching as Draco settled himself onto the mattress the other side of Pansy.

"I don't think I know how to be anymore," Draco replied honestly, leaning over the sleeping girl to press a light kiss to his boyfriend's forehead. "How could I be mad at you for this?"

Draco settled himself down amongst the multitude of pillows that littered Pansy's bed and then pulled the bedclothes over his body.

"We're sleeping here?" Harry questioned.

"Might as well. I'm comfy now and I can't be arsed to move."

Harry looked at Pansy's sleeping form and then grinned wryly at his boyfriend. "You realise this is probably every straight bloke's fantasy come true?"

A snort came from the huddle of blankets in between them. "Never mind straight blokes, I think I've just woken up in the fantasy of about every girl at Hogwarts."

Draco grinned and slid his arm around the girl's waist and kissing her cheek. "You say the nicest things, Parkinson. But don't go getting any ideas; he's mine."

The room fell silent then, only the sounds of their steady breathing were audible. Then a definite snicker was heard from the Draco's direction.

"You know, Harry, I was just thinking. You thought this morning's wake-up call was embarrassing, imagine how traumatised the house-elf that Mother sends to wake us tomorrow is going to be!"


	43. Are You Sure?

**Author Note: This chapter contains some fairly explicit boy/boy action. Please don't read if you are of a sensitive disposition!!! You have been warned.**

* * *

Draco woke early the next morning. He tumbled out of bed and smiled down at the sleeping forms of his boyfriend and best friend. He was tempted, momentarily, to wake them, but relented, smiling in anticipation of Harry's reaction to finding himself snuggled up to Pansy.

He headed into his own room, took a quick shower, then dressed and made his way down to breakfast. His mother was already seated at the table when he arrived. They exchanged greetings but then fell into silence as they ate. Neither of them made a very good meal of it. Draco was nervous about seeing his father, and Narcissa was worried at how Draco would handle seeing his proud father fallen so low.

"We must be leaving shortly," Narcissa said, breaking the silence.

Draco raised his eyes to meet his mother's steady gaze and simply nodded.

"There is no need to be nervous, Draco. Your father assures me that he is fully recovered from his illness now. And while Azkaban will never be a pleasant place, it is a hundred times better than it was the last time he was there. At least there are no Dementors to contend with."

Draco nodded again. "I know," he said tiredly. "It's not that really, though I am a little apprehensive.

"Then what is it?" Narcissa slid her hand across the table and closed it round her son's.

"Do you really think that Father will be okay when I tell him about Harry and me? If it is going to upset him, maybe I shouldn't mention it. This is the first time I've seen him in six months, I don't want to waste it by arguing."

Narcissa smiled softly at her son and raised her hand to smooth away the frown that marred his face. "I can't tell you exactly how your father will react, but I stand by my earlier views. Lucius is a very shrewd man. Even from behind the walls of Azkaban he will be able to appreciate the undeniable advantages this relationship will bring to our family name."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Narcissa carried on regardless. "Yes, I know that isn't the reason you are with Harry. But does it really matter why your father accepts the relationship, only that he does? Lucius has mellowed a great deal since the end of the war, but you are reaching a little too far if you expect him to embrace you and Harry based purely on romantic ideals. Your father will always look for an angle on any situation; fortunately, he will not have to look far for this one."

"So you think I should still tell him?" Draco persisted.

"I think you should do what your heart tells you is right. But if it were me? Yes, I would tell him. Now, we must leave shortly; go say your goodbyes."

* * *

Harry woke up spooned tightly against a warm, soft body. As he tightened his grip on said body, he realised it was entirely too soft, and the feminine laugh that emanated from it simply confirmed his fear that it wasn't Draco.

Harry's cheeks flushed and he scooted away from Pansy, who had now rolled over to face him, grinning madly.

"Morning, Harry," she chirped, entirely too lively for the time of day.

"Hi, um...sorry about that," he mumbled uncomfortably.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Pansy dismissed his concerns blithely. "It wouldn't be the first time I've had a boy rutting against me whilst moaning his boyfriend's name."

Harry flushed a deeper red and squirmed. He opened his mouth but found that words had deserted him. Then he caught the teasing smile on Pansy's face. "I didn't?"

"No," she smirked, "But I had you going for a moment.""I hate you," Harry muttered darkly."Of course you do, sweetie," Pansy replied, before leaning in and kissing him lightly. "Thanks for last night."

A pointed cough came from the direction of the door at this point, and both friend's turned to see Draco gazing at them, one eyebrow arched in question.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Actually, yes, you are. No go away and come back in ten minutes."

Harry pulled away at Pansy's words, a little fearful lest Draco think there was any truth in them.

"Relax, Harry, I like my men a little straighter than you are," Pansy teased.

"Who are you kidding, fag-hag."

Laughing, Pansy climbed out of bed and walked over to hug Draco quickly. "How are you feeling? Nervous?"

"A little," the blond admitted reluctantly.

"You'll be fine," Pansy responded confidently. "Won't he, Harry?"

"What? Oh yes, of course he will," was Harry's somewhat distracted reply.

Draco turned to his boyfriend. "I have to leave in a minute, come give me a hug to keep me going."

When Harry shifted uneasily but remained firmly in the bed, Draco was more than a little confused.

"Harry," he whined.

"Can't you come over here?" Harry suggested weakly.

Grey eyes narrowed slightly at this. "You'd better not be naked under those covers, Potter."

At this point in the conversation, Pansy burst out laughing and both boys turned to glare at her. When she had finally managed to control her glee, she turned to a scowling Draco. "He's not naked under there. But unless I was much mistaken earlier, he is sporting a rather impressive erection. Nothing to do with me though, I assure you."

"Of course not, Pansy. There's only one of us inspires that kind of reaction in Harry and it's certainly not you. And you," he turned to fix a glare on the bed-ridden Gryffindor. "I don't care if you've got a Basilisk down your pants, get out of that bed and hug me, damn it!"

Draco wore his most effective pout, and when his blond hair fell into his eyes, he appeared to Harry to be a lost little boy. He realised that his boyfriend probably needed all the comfort he could get before seeing his father in that dismal place. Putting his embarrassment to one side, Harry slipped from under the covers and crossed to where Draco stood, all the while doing his best to ignore the erection that was still tenting his pyjama pants.

As he wrapped his arms around the blond boy, Harry heard a husky voice whisper in his ear. "Save that for later." And Draco gave his hips a tiny thrust to illustrate what he meant, just in case Harry was in any doubt.

"Wish me luck?" Draco asked as they separated.

"You'll be fine," Harry answered automatically.

"I will be," Draco agreed. "But I'm not so sure about Father."

"I thought he was okay now," Harry asked, confused.

"He is. But telling him about you and me might just bring on a relapse."

"You're going to tell him," Harry spluttered. "But what if..."

"He's my father and I want him to know how important you are to me."

"But what if he tells," Harry argued somewhat lamely.

"Who's he going to tell, Harry? He's not exactly popular with the Death Eater crowd since his deal with the Ministry. Even if he was, I somehow doubt that he would go bragging to them that his son is in love with Harry Potter."

"But..." Harry began, and then the realisation of what Draco had just admitted hit him. "Wait a minute, did you mean that?"

"What?" Draco replied, panicking slightly. He had been hoping that Harry hadn't noticed his slip.

"When you said that you...You know."

"No, Harry, I don't know," Draco lied smoothly. "That's Mother calling, I have to go." Without further ado, he gave Harry a quick kiss and then promptly left before his boyfriend could formulate an appropriate response.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Harry flopped back onto the bed with a groan, hiding his face under a pillow.

"He did say that, didn't he? You heard it too, right?"

"Hmm, what? Oh, yes, he definitely said it." Pansy sounded a little distracted, so Harry peeked out from under his hiding place.

"Pansy," he shrieked in outrage, realising the girl's eyes were lingering on the lower half of his body. He quickly covered his stubborn erection with the pillow and glared at his friend.

"What?" she asked defensively. "I'm only human, Harry, and that is rather impressive. Draco's a lucky boy."

Wisely choosing not to respond to this, Harry chose another line of questioning instead.

"So do you think it's true? I mean, maybe it was just a figure of speech and he didn't really mean it."

Pansy sank down onto the bed at the side of him with a sigh.

"Harry, anyone with eyes can tell that it's true. Just like they can tell that you love him too."

"I never said that," Harry protested.

"No," Pansy agreed, smiling. "But it's written all over your face every time you think of him, or you're near him. Merlin! Someone only has to mention his name and you light up brighter than the sun. Face it; you're both as smitten as each other."

Harry became that embarrassed during this speech that he was now torn between hiding his groin or his face with the pillow. Pansy seemed to sense his dilemma, as a pillow swiftly thwacked him in the face.

"Idiot," she muttered affectionately.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the day in a state of persistent agitation. He tried his best to keep himself, and his mind, occupied with other things, but everything came back to those words that Draco had let slip.

Harry had known for some time just how much his boyfriend had come to mean to him. But for some reason, that he suspected was mainly fear, he had never allowed himself to dare hope that his feelings were reciprocated.

But now, Draco had made the first step, albeit accidentally, and Harry knew that he had to seize the opportunity and tell the blond just how he felt. To say that the prospect terrified him would be a gross understatement.

Fretting over this allowed Harry to avoid thinking too much about Lucius and his reaction when Draco told him of their relationship.

Whilst he accepted that Draco obviously knew his father better than he did, Harry couldn't help but feel that he was expecting too much if he thought the elder Malfoy would, in any way, accept them being together.

Harry's greatest fear was that Lucius would issue his son with some sort of ultimatum, forcing Draco to choose between his father and his boyfriend. A choice that he could never really win, because even if Draco did choose him, Harry knew he couldn't stand to be the reason Draco lost his father.

So Harry kept busy, and drove Pansy to near distraction with his seemingly boundless energy. In the end, in sheer desperation, she had thrust a broom into his hand and shoved him out doors with strict instructions not to return until he could behave like a rational adult.

As it turned out, it was the best possible idea for Harry. For as soon as he took to the air he felt a weight lift off his shoulders, and it became just him, at one with the broom and the surrounding skies.

It was several hours later that a tired Harry returned to the Manor. His face flushed with exertion, he sank wearily onto the sofa in the sitting room and watched Pansy as she played happily with a pink-haired Teddy. Harry smiled to himself at the sight of the small boy's hair; the bubblegum colour was so reminiscent of his mother.

Yawning widely, Harry closed his eyes for, what he thought would be, a few moments. However, the minutes stretched into hours and before he knew where he was, it was 5pm and he was being shaken awake gently by Narcissa.

He rubbed at his tired eyes. "You're back? How long was I asleep?"

"About two hours, so Pansy informs me. I thought I'd wake you so you could wash up for dinner."

"Where's Draco?" He asked, green eyes scanning round the room without success.

"He went up to his room just after we returned," Narcissa explained.

Harry stood quickly; he needed to see Draco so that they could sort things out.

He had taken only a couple of steps when he felt Narcissa's hand on his arm.

"Don't go to him just yet, Harry. He needs to be alone for a while."

"He's okay, isn't he?" Harry's voice was tinged with concern.

"He's fine," Narcissa reassured him. "It was just very difficult for Draco to see his father in that place, and I'm not sure that he knows what to feel about it yet."

Harry nodded in understanding. That certainly made sense.

"Just give him some time to compose himself," Narcissa advised. "He'll come to you when he's ready."

So as much as Harry longed to see his boyfriend, he stayed away. He gave Draco the space he needed and just prayed that he would come to him soon.

By the time dinner was over and still Draco hadn't appeared, Harry's heart was very heavy indeed. He couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling that maybe Draco was avoiding him. Unable to fake good humour, that he didn't feel, any longer, Harry said his goodnight's and made his way up to bed. Hoping against hope that things would look better in the morning.

He paused outside his bedroom and cast a longing glance in the direction of Draco's room. It took all of his self-control not to open that door and throw himself into his boyfriend's arms. Instead, he opened the door to his room and reluctantly entered. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he made out a figure huddled on his bed. Heart in his mouth, Harry crossed the room and saw that it was Draco, curled up, fast asleep with dried tear tracks still visible on his sleep-flushed cheeks.

Not wanting to wake the sleeping blond, Harry toed off his shoes and climbed onto the bed next to him, one arm wrapping protectively round his slender waist. All his previous fears and worries disappeared, he had Draco and that was all he needed.

Harry watched the steady rise and fall of his boyfriend's chest and it wasn't long before he too was sleeping peacefully.

When he was woken this time, it wasn't Narcissa, but Draco, who he found gazing down at him nervously. A fingertip gently traced the outline of his lips and Harry felt a shiver run through him at the touch, and at the intensity of Draco's gaze.

"Harry," he began uncertainly. "About what I said earlier, I didn't...I mean, I do, but..."

"Shh, it's okay," Harry soothed, raising one hand to cup Draco's cheek. "I love you, too."

Grey eyes became impossibly wide at this, and Draco's smile lit the room brighter than any sun could have managed. If Harry had ever doubted that his boyfriend felt the same, well, he had his answer now.

"I've wanted to say it for ages," Draco explained. "That wasn't exactly the way I envisaged doing it though."

"It doesn't matter." To prove his point, Harry slid his hand round to the back of his boyfriend's neck and pulled him down for a kiss that was so sweet and tender, it made Draco's chest ache.

"I love you," Draco gasped in Harry's ear, wrapping his arms tightly around the brunet. They held each other like that for a time, simply revelling in the closeness.

"How did it go with your father?" Harry didn't want to ruin the mood but he had to know.

"Surprisingly well," Draco admitted. "I mean, he won't be dancing at our wedding any time soon, but he seemed to accept it. He wants me to be happy."

"And I make you happy?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you certainly do. As it happens, I have several ideas of what we could do now to make me even happier."

"Actually, so do I," Harry answered brightly as he pulled away and climbed off the bed.

"I think I prefer mine," Draco pouted as he watched Harry rifle through his trunk. "Mine all involved us being a lot closer that we currently are."

Harry got up at this point and Draco spotted a small box in his hand. "Oh, a present! Is it for me?"

"As if you didn't know already."

Draco perched excitedly on the edge of the bed and Harry sat, straddling his lap, placing the box into outstretched, eager hands.

Harry chewed his lip nervously as he watched the blond fervently tearing the wrappings off and open the present.

Draco almost dropped his gift in surprise as he saw what it was. When he picked up the contents, he realised that he had not been hallucinating and that he really was holding a small glass vial of lubricant.

"Does this mean...?" He questioned, needing to make sure. His heart, and another part of his anatomy, leapt as Harry nodded.

"Are you sure?" Draco persisted.

"More sure than I've ever been about anything in my whole life. I love you, Dray, and I want you. I don't think that the moment will get any more right than this."

"I love you so much. You won't regret this, I swear." Draco's fingers were already unbuttoning Harry's shirt and sliding it off his broad shoulders.

"I certainly hope not," Harry chuckled, his voice now thick with desire.

The two boys locked gazes, desire written over their faces. Draco licked his lips briefly and watched in satisfaction as Harry's eyes followed the movement of his tongue. Unable to resist any longer, he lowered his head and sealed his mouth over Harry's.

Harry felt the blond's tongue teasing along his bottom lip, begging entrance which was swiftly granted. They duelled for supremacy in a bruising kiss before Harry gave himself over totally to his boyfriend's desire, submitting totally as Draco's velvety tongue darted back and forth into his welcoming mouth in an imitation of acts yet to come.

Draco felt deft hands untucking his shirt from the confines of his trousers. He moaned into Harry's mouth as fingers skimmed over his sensitive flesh, pausing only to pluck gently at his nipples.

Reluctantly ending their embrace, Draco eased Harry to his feet. He grinned up at his boyfriend wickedly as he began to slowly undo his trousers, sliding them down over narrow hips, until they were removed completely. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of Harry's boxers and eased them down over his boyfriend's erection, his mouth watering at the sight.

He trailed his fingertips over the skin of Harry's inner thighs, revelling in the whimpering noises that escaped his boyfriend. Unable to resist any longer, he flicked out his tongue and gently lapped at the head of Harry's leaking cock, tasting the bitter pre cum that pooled there. Teasing, he pulled back and blew softly on the, now wet flesh, causing another whimper.

"Draco, please," Harry begged, certain he would die if Draco didn't touch him soon.

Needing no further invitation, Draco slid his hands round to cup Harry's buttocks, before lowering his head and swiftly engulfing the brunet's arousal. A guttural groan escaped Harry's lips as he felt his boyfriend's mouth enveloping his cock, and he couldn't help but thrust further into the enticing heat.

Harry slid his hands down to twine in Draco's hair, his fingers fisting in the silken strands. He allowed himself to look down, and almost came undone at the sight of his boyfriend's rosy lips wrapped around his shaft, taking him in eagerly.

A soft keening noise escaped from Harry's lips as he felt Draco take him in even deeper, almost swallowing him whole. "Shit, yes! So good," he murmured whilst petting the blond's head.

"You like that, Harry?" Draco grinned cheekily up at him.

Harry nodded, "Please," he begged.

"Oh don't worry; I'm not done with you yet." Draco's hands stroked over the soft skin of Harry's torso, trailing over his hip bones, skimming dangerously close to his erection, yet avoiding it completely.

"I think I want you on the bed," the blond mused, and Harry didn't need telling twice. He scooted onto the bed, lying on his back, body half raised on his elbows.

He watched through heavy lidded eyes as his boyfriend quickly divested himself of his clothing. In the soft lighting, Draco's pale skin seemed almost to glow, giving him an ethereal look. Though the look in his eyes, as he climbed onto the bed, was anything but that, it was almost animalistic in its intensity.

"Raise your legs," he instructed huskily.

Harry obeyed instantly, pulling his legs up, feet flat on the bed, displaying his tight pink opening for his boyfriend's pleasure. Draco licked his lips at the sight and it took all of his self control not to bury himself inside Harry there and then.

Instead, he knelt between his boyfriend's legs and picked up the vial of lube. Pouring some of the oily substance over his hand, he reached down and began trailing a finger round Harry's puckered opening. Harry pushed back against the finger, wanting to let Draco know he was ready.

As his finger breached the tight ring of muscle, Draco couldn't tear his eyes of Harry's face, eyelids fluttered shut, lips parted, and cheeks flush with arousal. He worked a second finger inside and began thrusting in earnest. Harry's body greedily swallowed up his digits, sucking them deeper in.

The brunet arched off the bed and gasped loudly as Draco brushed against the small knot of pleasure deep inside him.

"Please, Dray," he almost sobbed. "I need you inside me, now."

Draco smiled down in satisfaction at the erotic picture his boyfriend made. He slid a third finger effortlessly inside Harry and brushed ruthlessly against his prostate, causing an overwhelming wave of sensations to course through the brunet's body.

Harry squirmed down on the fingers buried deep inside him. It was a strange feeling, so full, but when Draco brushed against that spot, he thought he would explode. Then suddenly he felt empty, the fingers were withdrawn, and Harry whimpered his protest at the loss.

"Shh," Draco soothed. "It's about to get so much better."

Harry's eyes flew open at this and he watched as Draco slicked the oil over his own leaking erection, the sight was so erotic that his hand automatically went to his cock.

"Nuh uh," Draco chastised, batting his hand away. "This is mine," he said, pressing a quick kiss to the head of Harry's erection.

Hooking his hands under Harry's knees, Draco brought his legs up to rest on his shoulders. He slicked a generous amount of the lube around Harry's hole, before lining his cock up at the glistening entrance.

"You're sure about this?" He gasped.

Harry just nodded, unable to find the words to express just how sure he really was.

Draco began to push forward, groaning in pleasure at the tight heat of Harry's channel enveloping his aching cock. He eased himself in slowly, watching his boyfriend's face intently for any sign of discomfort.

"Fuck! You're so tight," he gasped as he finally buried all of his length within his boyfriend's slick hole. Then he noticed that Harry was biting down on his bottom lip. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," Harry lied, shaking head. "Just give me a minute."

Draco leant forward and captured his boyfriend's lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue sweeping through the brunet's mouth, and Harry found that any pain he had felt was now a clouded memory.

He slid his legs down to wrap tightly around Draco's waist and gave a tiny thrust of his hips to let the blond know he was ready. Draco pulled halfway back out of Harry before plunging back in. The keening cry that escaped the brunet's lips telling him that he had found the right angle.

The velvety tightness of Harry's channel was overwhelming, his baser instincts, urging him to thrust faster and deeper, were too persistent to be ignored. He lowered his lips to Harry's torso and began to nibble at the pink nubs of his fleshy nipples. The mewling cries that this elicited from the brunet's lips went straight to Draco's cock.

He reached between their bodies and wrapped his, still oiled, hand around Harry's shaft, timing his strokes with the thrust of his cock into his boyfriend's arse. Harry's hands fisted in the bed sheets, his knuckles almost white, his lips moving in an endless prayer for relief.

"God, Dray, feels so good. More, please," he gasped breathlessly.

"Cum for me Harry," Draco groaned, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer himself. He sped up the thrusts of both his hand and his cock; his eyes locked on the lust filled green ones of his boyfriend.

Moments later, ropes of white cum spurted over Draco's hand and both their bodies, as Harry screamed his release, Draco's name on his lips.

The sight of his boyfriend's orgasm, and the feel of his tight hole pulsing wildly around him, was enough to tip Draco over the edge. He gave a final few hard thrusts into Harry before he buried himself deeply and lowered his head to his boyfriend's chest. He almost sobbing his release as his seed spurted deep inside Harry.

Draco collapsed on top of Harry, burying his face in the smooth curve of his neck, revelling in the spicy smell of sweat and sex that permeated the Gryffindor's skin.

"Wow," was all he could manage to say.

Harry chuckled tiredly. "I know what you mean. Why on earth did I wait so long to do that?"

"I don't know, but we're definitely going to do it again."

They lay like that for several minutes, wrapped in each other's embrace. Finally, Draco pulled away and reached over for his wand to cast a Cleaning Charm over them both. He tugged one of the blankets over them before crawling back into Harry's arms and snuggling into his side. He looked up at Harry from where his head was pillowed on the brunet's chest and found his boyfriend gazing back at him.

"I love you," he murmured sleepily.

"I love you, too," Harry whispered, before tenderly brushing a lock of damp hair off the blond's forehead. "Now let's get some sleep. You've worn me out."

Draco giggled at this and lay his head back down on Harry, revelling in the feel of strong arms encircling him. Within moments both boys were asleep.


	44. Professor Snape Is Dead

The following morning, Harry woke to the sensation of Draco's fingers raking through his dishevelled locks. Leaning into the touch, sighing contentedly, he smiled, sleepily, up at his boyfriend.

The small movement was enough to cause him to wince at the tenderness that promptly reminded him of the previous night's activities. He scowled up at the blond.

"I don't know what you're looking so smug about," he complained. "I didn't realise it would still hurt today."

"What did you expect? There's no pleasure without pain," Draco replied, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

"You don't exactly look like you're suffering for it," Harry huffed.

"And nor will you be, once you're used to it."

"Used to it," Harry repeated. "I'm not doing that again. It's bloody sore!"A horrified expression crept over Draco's face. "You-you don't mean that, do you? I'll be more gentle next time, I promise."

Feeling mollified by his boyfriend's contrition, Harry smiled again. "Relax, I'm just kidding." He ran his fingertips over Draco's naked torso. "There's no way we're not doing that again. Just not for a day or so, yeah?"

"Git," Draco accused affectionately. "I was really worried there for a minute."

Harry's eyes ran appreciatively over his boyfriend's naked form as he climbed out of bed and began searching for the clothes he had shed in such a hurry the night before.

"Where are you rushing off to? I know I said no actual sex today, but there's plenty of other stuff we could do." Harry shot Draco his best (and only) seductive look in a bid to lure him back to bed.

Draco smiled fondly at Harry's antics, finished fastening his trousers, and then sat on the bed at the side of his boyfriend. Harry immediately laid his head in the blond's lap, nudging at his hands. Draco chuckled and, taking the hint, resumed his petting of Harry's hair.

"I don't want to get up," he admitted. "But there's something I have to do today." His tone was uncertain and, for once, Harry was not oblivious.

"You never said. What is it?"

Draco sighed and his hand stilled. "I'm going to see Professor Snape," he almost whispered.

Harry was fully awake now and looking at his boyfriend in the wary manner that one normally directed at crazy people.

"Draco," he began, "Professor Snape is -"

"Dead," Draco finished for him. "I do know that, Harry. I'm not mad. I'm going to visit his grave."

"Why?" The question was out before Harry could stop it.

"To lay flowers and pay my respects. All the reasons people usually visit graves," Draco drawled.

"I know that. What I meant was why are you going to his grave. I know he was your Head of House, but I didn't realise that you were especially close."

"He was my Godfather," Draco stated simply.

"Oh, I didn't know," and Harry couldn't help but wonder why that was.

"Why would you?" Draco asked, as if reading his boyfriend's thoughts. "You and I weren't exactly friends up until this year, and he was already dead by then. Plus, it comes dangerously close to the many topics that we pathologically avoid discussing."

Harry nodded, realising that Draco was right. It seemed ridiculous that they had declared their love, and had sex, yet there were these huge chunks of each other's lives that they really knew little about.

"We should, you know. Talk about those things."

"And we will," Draco reassured him. "Just not now. I want to get going soon."

"Can I come with you?" It was an impulsive question but as soon as he had said it, Harry knew it was what he wanted. Whatever his history had been with the man, Snape had sacrificed much to aid him in his fight against Voldemort, and Harry felt it was only right that he pay his respects to the man.

Draco looked surprised and relieved at the same time. "Are you sure you want to? You two didn't exactly get on."

Harry snorted, "That's something of an understatement. The man hated the sight of me. But yes, I'm sure. He did a lot of good during the war, things that most of us wouldn't have been strong enough to do, and he never got the recognition that deserved."

There was a determined gleam in his eyes as he finished speaking, and Draco knew better than to try and change his mind.

* * *

Under the cover of Harry's Invisibility Cloak, Draco side-along Apparated them direct into the graveyard at Spinner's End.

Draco led the way through the worn and untended plots, until he paused in front of a grey marble slab surrounded by neatly manicured grass and fresh flowers. Harry was relieved to find that the grave was so well cared for; he hadn't thought Snape had anyone in his life that would miss him.

"Mother sends one of our house-elves every week to tend it," Draco explained, understanding Harry's expression.

Harry couldn't help but think guiltily of the unkempt graves of his parents in Godric's Hollow, and resolved to do something about it, first chance he got.

Draco leant down and placed a beautiful Christmas wreath against the stone. He stood back up and slid his hand into Harry's.

"He was a good person really. He just didn't let many people see it."

Harry nodded. "There was a lot I didn't know, things I still don't really understand. But it can't have been easy, living that kind of double life for so long, and I respect him for that. I just wish I'd had the change to really know him."

"He was a difficult man to love," Draco said, with a wry smile.

"But you did," Harry countered softly, slipping his arm around the blond's waist.

"Yes," Draco whispered. He turned to face Harry, his grey eyes shining with unshed tears. "I hate him sometimes too." He spoke with a fierceness that startled Harry.

"He let me follow in his footsteps, watched me making the same mistakes that he did, and he never once tried to show me there was another way. After he…after Dumbledore, I couldn't bear to be around him. I'd been so close that night, and then he'd just said those two little words and it was all over for me, no going back.

I know I made my own decisions, but it was all I'd ever known. My father believed in Voldemort, almost worshipped the bastard for some reason. But Severus…well, he knew how wrong it all was, and yet he just watched me follow blindly."

Thinking he was finished, Harry opened his mouth to speak but Draco continued.

"I know what you're going to say, and you're probably right. He couldn't say anything or he would have exposed himself. I know that deep down, just like I know that I would probably have betrayed him to my father if he had. But it's just; sometimes I get mad because he didn't choose me. He was my Godfather and he was supposed to love me. But he chose Dumbledore, you, the whole fucking wizarding world, over me. It's irrational and stupid, but I can't help how I feel.

The look in Draco's eyes dared Harry to disagree with him. Harry just pulled the blond in close, arms tightly round his waist, and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

"It's not stupid; it's perfectly natural to feel like that. Someone you loved and trusted put the 'greater good' ahead of your own wellbeing. Even when you know it was the only way, it doesn't stop it hurting." There was a bitter tone to Harry's voice as he finished speaking, but Draco was too wrapped in his own emotions to notice.

Draco snuggled further into Harry's embrace and, not for the first time, wondered what he had done to deserve such an amazing boyfriend. "I love you," he murmured against the other boy's neck.

Harry never tired of hearing those words. He pulled back from the embrace and looked at the blond, his face full of emotion. "I love you too."

They held each other close, wrapped up in their own world, completely oblivious to the curious looks of passers-by. Suddenly, Harry felt Draco's body trembling against him. Thinking that the blond was crying, he looked down in concern. Harry was relieved to find that what felt like sobbing, was actually Draco giggling merrily to himself over some private joke.

"What?" Harry asked, fascinated by just how changeable his boyfriend's moods were.

"I was just thinking what Severus would say if he could see the two of us now," Draco explained between chuckles.

Harry couldn't help but crack a grin at this. If he wasn't already dead, Harry was fairly sure that the sight of his Godson cuddling up to Harry Potter, would probably have killed Snape off anyway.

"I bet," Draco chuckled," That if we listen closely, we can probably hear the sound of him turning in his grave."

"Harry," Draco said quietly after a time.

"Mhmm?" was Harry's muffled reply. His face was currently buried in the crook of his boyfriend's neck.

"I was just wondering…you can say no if you don't want to…I thought we could…"

"What, Draco?" Harry questioned gently, hearing the nervous tone in the his voice.

"I just wondered if, when we leave here, you wanted to go and visit your parents. I'd like to meet them."

Harry had been about to dismiss the idea out of hand; Godric's Hollow held too many bad memories. But Draco's last words had melted his resolve. He couldn't put into words the emotion he felt, choosing instead to convey it with a languid kiss.

"I'll take that as a yes, then?" Draco gasped as they finally broke apart.

Harry smiled. "Yes, let's go. I can't believe it's been a whole year already since I was there last."

"You were there last Christmas Eve?" Draco queried, his curiosity piqued.

Harry nodded but made no attempt to explain further. Draco was filled with the urge to ask, but decided it really wasn't the time.

Again, they Apparated under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry's arm tight around Draco's waist as he took him side-along.

When they had checked the coast was clear, Harry pulled the cloak off them and stowed it safely in his backpack. Taking Draco's hand, he led him through the graveyard, trying his best to remember the location of his parent's grave.

"It looks different in the daylight," he explained as they meandered through the ageing stones.

"Will you tell me about it?" Draco asked softly. "Not right now, but one day, when you're ready?"

Harry squeezed his hand. "There's nothing I'm not ready to share with you," he answered simply. Then he cracked a smile. "If you're a good boy, I might tell you a bedtime story tonight."

He got a sharp dig to the ribs, but the warm smile on Draco's face told him that he was pleased.

When they finally located his parents' graves, both boys stood silently for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Then, Harry's eyes widened in shock as he realised that where there had been previously two headstones, there were now three.

He knelt down and reached out a shaking hand to trace the gold lettering on the black marble of the new addition. He turned wide eyes to Draco and found him smiling back. "Did you do this?"

Draco shook his head. "No, it was Mother," he explained. "She wanted some way to show her gratitude for all that you've done for our family. Aunt Andromeda suggested it; apparently it was something Professor Lupin had been planning to do before…" Draco trailed off, not really wanting to finish that particular sentence.

Harry turned tear-filled eyes back to the headstone that marked the life of his Godfather. The inscription was simple, but it said all that was needed

**SIRIUS 'PADFOOT' BLACK**

**1960 - 1996**

**BELOVED FRIEND AND GODFATHER**

**'MISCHIEF MANAGED'**

"I don't get the last bit, but apparently that was what Lupin had planned. Does it make sense?"

Harry nodded, his heart and mind too full for speech. Draco's hand slid down and gently pressed his shoulder. "I'll give you some time alone with them."

"Thanks," Harry croaked, his eyes firmly fixed on the black marble.

Draco stepped back a short way, but stayed close enough that he could keep a watchful eye on his boyfriend, ready to lend his support if needed. He could see Harry's lips moving and hear the murmur of his speech, but was too far away to make out actual words. It was some minutes later, when he saw Harry's shoulders begin to shake with suppressed sobs, that he made his way back to the brunet's side.

He sank to his knees at Harry's side, oblivious to the dirt now marking the knees of his expensive trousers. Wrapping his arms around the other boy's shuddering form, he pulled Harry tightly against his chest.

"Sorry." The thick folds of Draco's winter coat muffled Harry's voice. "I'm being such a girl."

"I think we both know that you're definitely no girl," Draco teased lightly. "They're your family; it's okay to miss them."

"It's not that really," Harry sniffed.

Draco proudly produced a clean handkerchief and pressed it into his boyfriend's clammy hand. "What is it then?" he asked gently.

"I do miss them, all of them. It's just that I don't remember my parents; I only know what people have told me. But Sirius, he was real, you know? I knew him. He was the first person that made me feel like I really belonged somewhere, like I mattered. He was the family that I never had." Harry paused for a moment to regain his control.

"I didn't realise how much it still hurt, losing him," he continued eventually. "It's so raw, and this just brings home to me what I've lost. I just feel bad that all this grief is for him and yet I've barely cried for my mum and dad."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Harry. You said it yourself. Sirius was real for you. With your parents, you never knew them. So while you mourn the loss of what they represent, they weren't exactly real to you. Does that make sense?"

"I guess so. I miss having parents, but with Sirius, I miss him, not my Godfather."

"Yes, that's what I was trying to say. When did you become more eloquent than me?" Draco shook his head in mock disbelief.

"Brat," Harry said, affectionately.

Both boys clambered to their feet. Draco cast a regretful look down at the state of his clothing. "So what do you think he would have made of us?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "Honestly? I think he would have pitched a fit to begin with. But he would have supported my decision. If for no other reason than to enjoy how much it would have pissed off Snape."

"I take it he shared the same special bond with Severus that you did?"

"That's kind of an understatement. They were like you and me, before all this happened."

"And look how well it turned out for us," Draco mused. "Maybe it was all repressed sexual tension."

"Urgh, Draco! That's vile! I don't need those kinds of mental images, thank you very much."

Draco just chuckled, then reached out and brushed the remaining tears off Harry's cheeks.

"You're freezing," he accused.

"Yeah, I am a little. Let's go home." With that, Harry slid his cold hand into Draco's, lacing their fingers together. And Draco marvelled at just how wonderful those last three words sounded.

* * *

Later that evening the two boys were sat, cuddled together, on Draco's bed. The blond was sat at the head of the bed, propped up against numerous pillows, while Harry nestled between his legs, resting comfortable against Draco's chest.

"Is it time for my bedtime story now?" Draco wanted to know, as he laced his fingers through his boyfriend's.

"That depends," Harry replied. "Have you been a good boy?"

"You tell me?" Draco responded, wriggling his body suggestively against him

Harry laughed, and raising one of their interlinked hands to his lips, pressed a quick kiss to Draco's knuckles. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Anything. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me."

Harry was surprised to realise just how much he did want to tell Draco. This was a part of his life that he had never fully shared with anyone before. He had given shorter, abridged, versions to various people at the end of the war, but he had never before laid bare the full facts and emotions of his experience. But he wanted Draco to know, wanted to share the memories of this vivid and terrifying experience. And Harry realised that this was a sign of just how important the blond had come to be to him.

Draco listened uncomfortably as Harry described the aftermath of Dumbledore's death, the funeral, his break-up with Ginny, and his return back to the Dursleys'. He found that his respect for Hermione leapt tenfold as he listened to how she had modified her parents' memories and sent them to Australia for their safety. That wasn't the action of a reckless Gryffindor. It bore the hallmark cunning of a Slytherin- - they highest praise he could give.

Even the Weasel rose in his estimation after Harry explained how the redhead had insisted on accompanying him on his mission, refusing to be swayed by the obvious risks. Draco was forced, reluctantly, to admit to himself that his boyfriend had made the right choices back in their first year. He doubted very much whether Harry would have found this level of unquestioning loyalty and sacrifice within Slytherin, or from him as a friend.

As he heard Harry tell of their escape from Death Eaters on Charing Cross Road, Draco couldn't repress the shudder that ran through his body. He remembered only too well when that had happened, just like he would never forget what he had been forced to do in the aftermath.

It had been the first time that he had successfully cast the Cruciatus Curse, and the first time he had realised how much his father had lied to him. He had felt none of the euphoria, no rush of power, none of the emotions that he had been led to believe came with such an act. In fact, it had been all he could do to swallow down the bile long enough to make it to a bathroom.

Draco was horrified when he realised that Harry had witnessed this, had watching him torture Rowle. And not for the first time, he wondered how he could possibly love someone like him.

"I didn't want to do it," he whispered, his lips pressed against Harry's temple.

"I know," Harry replied, sliding one hand up to caress Draco's neck soothingly.

Draco ran a complete gamut of emotions as Harry continued with his story. He tightened his grip on the brunet as he heard how they had retrieved the locket from Umbridge at the Ministry.

"Hideous woman." He scowled, and Harry refrained from mentioning Draco's stint on that same woman's Inquisitorial Squad.

Something very like a low growl escaped from Draco's lips as they got to the part of the trio's row and Ron's subsequent departure. He was almost relieved to realise he hadn't been entirely wrong about the Weasel being a complete arse.

Ron's popularity fluctuated yet again when Harry told the story of how he had found Gryffindor's sword at the bottom of the pond, and had almost drowned in the process.

"Idiot Gryffindor," Draco muttered, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend tightly. "I can't believe that you followed that doe, how could you take risks like that? Anything could have happened."

"But it didn't," Harry gently reminded his agitated boyfriend.

"But still…" Draco protested, truly alarmed by Harry's total lack of concern for his personal safety.

Harry placed a hand on his boyfriend's thigh, rubbing soothingly, hoping to encourage him to relax. But relaxing was the last thing on Draco's mind. It had just occurred to him that they must be nearing the part of the story that he was dreading, Harry's capture and subsequent imprisonment at the Manor.

Harry explained how they had been captured, how it had been his fault for saying Voldemort's name. As he listened to his boyfriend, describe the fear he had felt on being brought to the Manor, Draco just wished he could crawl into a hole and disappear.

"I didn't want to tell them it was you," he whispered.

"I know," Harry soothed. "You did what you could. You weren't really in a position to do any more. Why didn't you?" Harry had to ask, it had been something that had bothered him ever since.

"I still hated you then," Draco began shamefacedly. "But I didn't want them to kill you. Things had changed by then, I'd changed, and I thought that you were my only hope of getting my life back. I was terrified that if you died, Voldemort would be unstoppable."

"What changed?" Harry asked, curiously.

"I'll tell you another time, it's quite a long story."

Harry accepted this but made a mental note to ask his boyfriend again before the holidays were over.

Draco was riveted by the dramatic telling of the trio's break-in at Gringotts. He remembered reading the barest outline of the tale in the _Prophet_ at the time, but hearing about it first hand was something else. His admiration for the bravery of all three Gryffindors left him feeling humbled.

As the story neared the end, Harry talked Draco through the run up to the final battle. He tried to gloss over the incident in the Room of Requirement and Pansy's denouncement of him, not wanting to encourage his boyfriend to feel any more guilty than he knew he already desperately wanted to explain to Harry his actions of that night.

His intention had never been to turn him over to Voldemort, just to try and prevent Crabbe and Goyle from killing him, thus providing Harry with the chance to escape. The way Draco saw it, if the boy had managed to escape from the Manor under the noses of his parents, Aunt Bellatrix, and assorted Death Eaters, then escaping from two lumbering idiots should pose no problem.

But as they had proved at the time, capturing Harry was not exactly what the two junior Death Eaters had in mind. Draco could still remember the panicked chill that had run through his veins when he had heard them casting the Killing Curse. And then Crabbe had gone and nearly killed them all when he had set loose the Fiendfyre. If Draco was honest with himself, he could date his attraction to Harry back to the moment the Gryffindor had swooped down through the flames and flown him to safety on the back of his broom.

"How can you stand to be around us?" Draco burst out, asking the question that had been troubling him since the start of term. He knew that Gryffindors were noble, but surely after what he and Pansy had done that night, not even the most noble of Gryffindors would be able to forgive.

Harry turned round so he was sat sideways between Draco's legs, his head resting against his boyfriend's chest.

"Because I understand why you were both like that. I've got to know who you really are and that's all that matters to me." Harry's tone clearly said that particular topic of conversation was finished.

Both boys had tears in their eyes as Harry told Draco about watching Snape's memories. He tried to skate over the details of the man's death, not wanting to distress his boyfriend further. Harry felt his throat tighten and he could barely swallow, just remembering the events of that night left him with an empty feeling deep inside.

He tried to put into words just how he had felt on making that final journey into the forbidden forest. As he got to the part with the Resurrection Stone, and he described how the spirits of his parents and Sirius had appeared to him, there was a choked sob from Draco, whose arms were now wrapped so tightly around Harry that breathing was becoming an issue.

The blond thanked God for his Mother as he listened to how she had lied to Voldemort, saving Harry's life, it was something she had refused to talk about herself. Draco made a silent promise to himself, to thank her in small ways, everyday, for the precious gift she had given to him.

As Harry came to the end of his tale, Draco did not relax his grip. During the final stages, both boys had been left with tear-tracks on their faces. Harry, from the emotion of relieving his past, and Draco, from the terror of realising how close he had come to never having what he had now.

"I know Gryffindors are meant to be brave, Harry. But you are something else." Draco was truly in admiration of everything he had done.

Harry just shrugged. "I'm not brave, I just didn't have a choice. I was scared the whole time."

"But that's what bravery is all about," Draco persisted. "You were scared but you did it all anyway. That takes real courage."

Draco knew that Harry was never very comfortable when it came to accepting compliments or accolades for his actions, so he left it alone.

"Thank you for telling me all that. I know it can't have been easy for you to relive it all. I never realised just what you all went through, I don't know what to say."

Wanting to get off the slightly depressing topic, Harry smiled up at his boyfriend. "Don't say anything. I can think of much better uses for that pretty mouth of yours."


	45. Drama Queen

**Author Note: There is some fairly explicit slash (boy/boy) action at the end of this chapter. If you don't want to read it, you can miss it out and skip to the next chapter.**

* * *

"Harry! Wake up." Draco shook his sleeping boyfriend gently.

Harry grunted, but simply rolled over in his continued slumber.

"Harry," Draco whined. "It's time to get up." To enforce his point, he treated his boyfriend to a sharp poke in the ribs.

Bleary green eyes cracked open. "Ow, that hurt." Harry's words were a little slurred as he slowly came round.

Satisfied with the success of his actions, Draco bounced excitedly on the bed.

"Come on, sleepyhead. It's Christmas day, and you know what that means."

"Sleep deprivation, apparently," Harry replied. He struggled to sit upright, realising that sleep was now a thing of the past.

Draco shook his head and a curtain of white blond hair tumbled in front of his eyes. "No. Presents."

Harry smiled at his boyfriend's barely concealed excitement. "What time is it?" he queried.

"It's gone six o'clock already." Draco glanced at his watch in concern.

"Six o'clock," Harry repeated slowly. "Are you mad? It's still the middle of the night." Harry prepared to snuggle back down under the covers, but found himself on the sharp end of Draco's wand.

"Don't you dare go back to sleep, Potter."

"You wouldn't," Harry said, but something in his boyfriend's expression told him that he would.

A snort sounded from the doorway. "And you thought Voldemort was scary. You just try coming between Draco and his presents, then you'll know what real fear is."

Pansy walked into the room, sporting a rather fetching pair of pink pyjamas, and rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Pansy! You're up too. What's wrong with you people?"

Pansy sank onto the bed and grimaced at Harry. "Not through choice, I assure you. You should think yourself lucky, Harry. You got a lie in. Someone woke me up just after 5.30am."

"Don't get comfortable, Parkinson," Draco warned, his wand still trained on the bed.

"Draco, put the wand down. I'll get up in a minute." Harry tried his utmost to smother a laugh at the picture his boyfriend made; feeling now was probably not the time.

"Now! You'll get up now," Draco asserted.

Harry thought for a moment, smirked up at the blond, and then made to pull the covers back off himself.

"Ok, Dray, if you insist. Pansy, you might want to look the other way." Harry stopped and considered for a moment. "On second thoughts, knowing you, that's probably the last thing you'll want to do.

Pansy's eyes glinted in understanding. "Look away? Are you mad? As if I'm going to pass up the chance to see Harry Potter in the buff."

"Make one move, Potter, and I'll stun you," Draco spluttered in outrage as the realisation of what his boyfriend was planning to do hit him.

The blond threw a package onto the bed. "You," he glared at Harry. "Put them on. And you." He turned to the giggling girl. "Out, now!"

Harry looked in confusion at the bundle in his lap. On closer inspection, it proved to be a pair of silk pyjamas, exactly like the ones that Draco was currently wearing. Except that his were silver whereas Harry's were green.

"Pyjamas?" he queried. "Shouldn't I be getting dressed?"

Draco shook his head emphatically. "No, it's a tradition. We always open presents before we do anything else, getting dressed included."

"Oh," Harry replied, trying his hardest to picture Lucius Malfoy in his own bed wear. "These are nice," he continued, running the silken fabric through his fingers. "But I do already own several pairs, you know?"

"Yes, but none that I particularly want my mother to see you wearing. I obviously overlooked nightclothes when I overhauled your wardrobe."

"Well, it's not like he has much call for pyjamas when he's with you," Pansy offered.

Draco nodded in agreement, then his eyes narrowed.

"Pansy, you're still here. I distinctly remember telling you to get out."

"C'mon, Drakie, don't be mean. Harry doesn't mind me staying; just think of it as giving me an early present."

"Seeing Harry naked is my present, Pansy, not yours. Now go, or I will start deducting one of your gifts for every second you linger." The gleam in Draco's eyes indicated that he meant exactly what he said.

Pansy squeaked in outrage at this. "Bitch," she accused."Yes, quite possibly," Draco agreed smugly, as he watched the dark-haired girl scramble out of bed and hasten to the door.

Harry leant back against the pillows and chuckled quietly at the Slytherin pair's antics.

"I don't know what you're laughing at, Potter. The same will apply to you if you're not up and dressed in the next five minutes.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later saw the Manor's occupants grouped around the elegant tree in the large sitting room. The house-elves had obviously been busy during the night, as all the presents had been arranged into neat piles, one for each person.

"About time - we were about to start with out you."

Draco turned horrified eyes to his mother. "You wouldn't dare."

Draco and Pansy immediately made a dive for their own pile. Harry followed, grinning at their excitement, and sprawled on the floor between the two of them.

Andromeda and Narcissa were more sedate in their seating arrangements, preferring instead to settle on one of the many sofas that littered the room. Teddy, meanwhile, crawled excitedly between them, not sure which way to turn first.

Harry's eyes widened at the sheer number of presents in his pile. Never in his life had he received so many. Christmases with the Dursleys had been just like any other day for him. Even when he had entered the wizarding world, there had only been the few gifts he received from Ron and Hermione, and the obligatory Weasley jumper. Not that he hadn't been extremely grateful, but he had never felt so spoilt or indulged as he did at that moment. He just hoped Draco hadn't spent too much money.

"Relax," the blond murmured in his ear. "You're worth it, every last Knut."

They took it in turns to open a gift, starting with Teddy as the youngest. Andromeda held the squirming baby on her lap as he tore at the paper, revealing his toy broom from Harry and Draco.

"I know he's a bit young for it now," Harry explained. "But Sirius bought me my first broom, so I thought I should get Teddy's. Sort of a Godfather tradition, you know?"

"Just remind me to thank you properly when he's buzzing round on it under my feet all day," Andromeda teased.

"Harry next," Draco interjected impatiently, and he thrust a brightly wrapped parcel into his boyfriend's hands.

It turned out to be a Slytherin scarf from Draco.

"I thought you might need one, seeing as how I've pinched your Gryffindor one," Draco said sheepishly, as he looped the green knit round Harry's neck.

"There." He sat back satisfied. "It matches your pyjamas, and your eyes."

Harry leant forward and impulsively gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the lips, only too aware of the fact that they were not alone.

"Me now!" Draco exclaimed, and the rest of them smiled as he bounced in anticipation. He tore at the paper with a startling ferocity before leaping forward to hug his boyfriend.

"It's perfect," he declared, tugging the soft blue cashmere sweater on over the top of his pyjamas. "It's so soft.""Won't you be a little hot like that, Dray?

"No more so than you in that scarf."

Harry absently stroked the fine woollen knit that encircled his neck, and said no more on the subject. He turned his attention to Pansy who was in transports of delight over the set of amethyst coloured dress-robes.

Narcissa was also similarly pleased with the elegant cornflower blue robes that Harry had purchased for her, with much help from Draco.

"They're lovely, Harry, thank you," she murmured, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.

Harry blushed slightly and turned in time to see his boyfriend directing a smug smile at him, which clearly said 'see, I told you'.

Both boys received similar thanks from Andromeda after she had opened the diamond earrings that they had bought for her. Slipping the studs into her ears, she turned to them.

"They're perfect, boys. Ted gave me a pair just like these when we were married, but Dora managed to lose them somehow." Her eyes looked suspiciously bright when she finished speaking and Draco hurriedly pressed another present on the happy baby snuggled in her lap.

Harry's next gift proved to be a sweater very similar to the one he had bought for Draco, only his was green.

"Great minds think alike, eh, Potter?"

"More like shop in the same store," Pansy snorted.

Draco didn't reply; he was already busy shredding the wrapping on his next gift, revealing the new winter cloak that Harry had spent some time agonising over purchasing.

The cloak was black velvet with a forest green silk lining; its clasps were silver and took the form of small serpents. Harry had also had a permanent warming charm woven into the fabric.

"Do you like it?" he asked nervously, after several seconds of silence from his boyfriend.

"It's perfect," Draco replied, stroking the butter-soft fabric. He hooked one hand round the back of Harry's neck and tugged him in for a kiss.

Harry felt a hot blush suffuse his cheeks at his boyfriend's public display of affection, which was not helped by Pansy's suggestion that they should 'get a room'.

Some time later and the two older members of the group had finished their unwrapping and were now comfortably seated, with a cup of tea, watching the teenagers open their remaining gifts. Teddy was on the floor, buried in a pile of wrapping paper, which he seemed to find far more exciting than any one of the many presents he had been given. With the exception of a green stuffed dragon that was safely tucked under his arm. A fact that had caused no small amount of smug gloating from Draco, who had been the purchaser of said toy.

The three friends came across identical looking packages in their piles, which on closer inspection, proved to be from Neville and Blaise. Pansy opened hers first and let out a squeal of delight which spurred the boys on. Harry grinned in amusement when he saw what it was, and Draco had a mixture of outrage and pleasure written across his face.

The two adults looked at the expressions in curiosity, which was quickly relieved when Pansy picked the T-shirt up from her lap and wriggled it on over her head. It was a soft baby-pink t-shirt, and on the front, written in purple glitter were the words 'Fag-Hag'. Harry held his up, revealing a green t-shirt with the words 'Snake-Charmer' written in silver, and a small design of a serpent wrapped round the writing.

Draco appeared to be slightly more reluctant to share his gift, and it was only after much coaxing from all concerned that he could be persuaded to hold up his t-shirt for inspection. As soon as he saw it, Harry completely understood Draco's reluctance and the expression on his face. Not that this stopped a giggle from escaping his lips.

Across the front of the black t-shirt, were the words 'Drama Queen' emblazoned in sparkling diamante.

"Well, they're certainly very…appropriate," said Narcissa, obviously biting back her mirth. She was fixed by a baleful glare from her son. "Come on, Draco. You must admit they are rather amusing."

Draco only huffed in reply, but Harry didn't miss the small smile that tugged at the edge of the blond's lips.

"I'll kill Blaise for this," he muttered, to no one in particular.

When finally the last of the presents had been opened, Draco sat back and eyed his pile with satisfaction. It had been a particularly fruitful year, and he was more than impressed with the gifts that Harry had got him. The jumper and the cloak were exactly the kind of items he would have purchased for himself. The copious amounts of Honeyduke's chocolates would satisfy even his sweet tooth.

However, he had to admit that his favourite gift from the Gryffindor had been the Potion's kit; with its selection of commonly used ingredients, various sized glass vials, sterling silver cutting implements, all in a black dragon-hide case, monogrammed with his initials. The thought that had gone into this purchase was obvious, and that alone made it Draco's best present.

The three teenagers were clambering to their feet when Narcissa spoke again.

"Oh, I forgot. An owl delivered these for you all yesterday." She reached into the drawer at her side and pulled two packages and an envelope out. The smaller of the parcels was addressed to Pansy who took it with wide eyes, wondering whom on earth it could be from.

When she unwrapped it, she found a small jewellery box, which she stared at for, what seemed like to Draco, an eternity.

"Merlin, Pansy, would you just open it already."

Pressing the clasp, the lid popped up and revealed a slender silver chain with a tiny dragon pendant, with emerald eyes. She looked in wonder at it, before her slightly trembling fingers plucked up the note that had come with it.

Pansy,

Hope you like the necklace.

I wasn't sure what to get, and it seemed appropriate.

It was really good to meet you last week.

Hope to see you again soon.

Merry Christmas.

Charlie

"That's pretty dear," Narcissa said, peering at the necklace. "Who's it from?"

"Charlie," Pansy replied softy, her eyes still fixed on the note.

"Weasley?" Draco questioned, his voice raised slightly.

Harry shot him a warning look, and when Pansy nodded, he said no more on the subject.

"You open the parcel, Dray. It's addressed to both of us, but I have the envelope."

Draco didn't need telling twice; his fingers had already been twitching at the paper. Tearing it off, he pulled back the lid of the box and peered inside. A chuckle escaped his lips as he took in its contents.

"What is it?" Harry queried. "Let me see."

"You might want to wait till later to look," Draco advised, but Harry was having none of it.

"Don't be silly, I want to see." His fingers curled round the top of the box and pulled it closer. He peered inside and then quickly withdrew his head, his face flushed red.

"Umm, yes, maybe we should look at it later," he mumbled uncomfortably, much to Draco's amusement. "Who's it from?"Draco flipped the label over. "George," he replied, and Harry nodded as if this explained everything.

"What is it?" Pansy all but shrieked.

"Never you mind," Draco reprimanded her. "Open the envelope, Harry."

Harry didn't recognise the writing on the envelope. It just said 'Harry Potter' on the front, no address or anything. He tore slowly at the paper, just in case it was another inappropriate present from George.

What fell out was a small bundle of photographs, Muggle ones, about ten in all.

Harry picked them up, and on first inspection, he thought someone had sent him pictures of a young Ginny Weasley. On closer inspection, his heart leapt into his throat as he realised that the small redhead growing up in the pictures was, in fact, his mum.

Harry's eyes misted over and his hands trembled slightly. Apart from in Snape's memories, this was the first time he had seen his mum as a child. Aunt Petunia had allowed no visible trace of her sister in the house, with the exception of her son, and he was hidden away as much as possible.

Sensing his boyfriend's emotional state, Draco scooted closer and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Who's that, Harry?" He asked softly, peering at the strange, unmoving, pictures.

"It's my mum," Harry almost whispered, and he felt Pansy press up against his other side.

"There was a note with them," she said, picking up the folded paper from where it had fallen, unnoticed, on the floor.

Harry,

I found these and thought you might want them. Mrs Figg told me you're okay, and that she will send these to you. I'm glad that everything worked out for you.

Merry Christmas,

Dudley

To say that Harry was stunned wouldn't even have come close to describing how he felt on reading that note.

Firstly, he was shocked that his Aunt Petunia had actually kept any reminder of her 'freak' sister. Secondly, that Dudley would find them and be thoughtful enough to realise what they would mean to Harry, was just mind-blowing.

He hadn't seen his cousin since the day they had gone into hiding. Their parting had certainly been more civilized than any of their earlier interactions. Dudley had seemed almost concerned about him. But Harry never expected a gesture like this. It was almost as if Dudley was offering an olive branch to him.

Truth be told, Harry tried to think about the Dursleys as little as possible. However awful they had been to him over the years, they were still his only living family, and their estrangement bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Folding up the note, he stuffed it, along with the photos, back into the envelope. Blinking back the unshed tears in his eyes, he looked up at the concerned faces of his friends with a smile.

"I'm okay," he assured them. "It just brought back a few memories, that's all."

"I think we should all retire to our rooms and dress for breakfast," Narcissa suggested during the awkward pause in conversation. "I'll have the elves ready it for 9am."

Harry looked at the large pile of presents and wished that he'd brought his wand down so that he could shrink and levitate them to his room. However, while he was still trying to figure out how he was going the manage them, a series of cracks sounded, and their piles were swiftly removed to their various rooms by the Manor's various house-elves.

As the boys paused outside Harry's room, Draco snaked his arms round his boyfriend's slender waist and stole a quick kiss.

"Enjoying Christmas so far?" he wanted to know.

Harry nodded. "It's different," he admitted. "But good different," he added quickly.

Draco kissed him again. "Good. Now go grab your things and then come to my room. I was thinking that maybe we could shower together and I could give you another present."

Harry's eyes widened at this and he didn't need telling twice. He scurried quickly into his room, the door banging loudly behind him. Draco chuckled all the way to his own room at his boyfriend's eagerness.

* * *

Harry could hear the shower running already as he entered Draco's room. The blond was nowhere to be seen, so Harry set his things down on a nearby chair and turned to head into the en-suite stood in the doorway watching him, naked apart from a small white towel slung low on his hips.

"C'mon, Potter," he chided. "Let's get you naked."

Harry grinned devilishly and needed no further telling. He quickly shed his pyjamas, revealing to Draco just how much he was excited at the prospect of them showering together. Draco dropped the towel, revealing similar arousal, and it was all Harry could do not to sink to his knees and take the blond in his mouth right there.

As if reading his boyfriend's thoughts, Draco smiled. "Patience, Harry," and he held out his hand. Harry accepted it and let himself be led into the bathroom.

They entered the already steamy shower cubicle. Privately, Harry thought that cubicle was hardly the right word for it; it was about the size of the family bathroom at the Burrow.

Draco stepped under the hot spray and Harry watched in fascination as the water coursed over his naked form.

"C'mon," and Draco tugged Harry under the jets with him.

Draco reached for the shampoo and, squirting some into his hand, he began to gently massage Harry's head. The brunette had never imagined that something as simple as having your hair washed could become so erotic. The way Draco's fingers were caressing his scalp was sending small shoots of pleasure straight to his cock.

Unable to restrain himself, he slid one hand down his wet torso, before finally coming to rest on his hard length. Draco's hands instantly left his head and batted the hand away.

"That's mine," he growled, before pushing Harry further under the spray to wash the soap away.

Next, he selected a sponge and soaped it up generously with what Harry thought was a heavenly smelling shower-gel. The blond lovingly washed every inch of his boyfriend's body, missing only the one part that was begging for attention.

By the time Draco sank to his knees, Harry was almost weeping with frustration.

"Please, Draco," he dipped his head and lightly ran his tongue over the underside of Harry's cock, and he was satisfied to hear a whimper escape his boyfriend's lips. The blond placed his hands on Harry's hips, then he wrapped his lips slowly around the brunet's shaft and took him into his mouth, inch by inch.

Harry groaned louder as Draco grazed his teeth along the sensitive skin of his cock and then swirled his tongue around the head.

"Fuck, yes," Harry gasped, leaning against the wall of the shower for support.

Harry's hands fisted tightly in Draco's soaking wet hair as he tried to thrust deeper into his mouth. Draco kept his hands firm on his boyfriend's hips, controlling the depth of each thrust. He traced his fingers lightly over Harry's balls as his warm mouth engulfed his cock, his throat relaxing to take Harry deeper.

"Shit, Dray, I'm so close."

Draco took hold of the base of Harry's cock and pulled his mouth off him. He looked up at his boyfriend as he stroked his entire length and massaged his cum-filled balls. His breath ghosted over the tip, causing a soft mewl to escape Harry's parted lips.

Draco's tongue teased the head of his boyfriend's cock, bringing him close to cumming several times, but pulling away just before. He had Harry begging for release, but continued to torture him, sensing just when he was getting close and then pinching the base of his cock, pulling him back from the edge.

Finally, Draco looked up at Harry and smiled as he stroked his glistening cock. "Ready to cum?" he purred.

"God, yes," Harry replied desperately.

Draco took Harry's cock all the way into his warm, wet mouth. Swirling his tongue down the shaft, he nibbled at the cock-head and sucked hard. He snaked a hand between Harry's legs, teasing the spot between his balls and anus, before sliding further back to massage his puckered opening.

He felt Harry's cock tense and knew his boyfriend was about to come. This time he didn't stop it, he just sank his mouth down as far as he could, until he felt the head of Harry's cock slide into this throat.

Harry's hands were buried so tight in his hair that it was almost painful, but Draco just concentrated on relaxing his throat to take more of his length in.

"Shit, 'm gonna…nnghh"

Harry never finished that sentence as Draco swallowed him particularly deep and he felt himself explode deep in his boyfriend's throat, ropes of thick cum spurting from his cock.

Draco continued sucking on Harry's softening cock until he had drained every drop of his boyfriend's seed. Then he sat back on his heels and smiled up at his boyfriend, who was now slumped bonelessly against the wall of the shower. "Happy Christmas," he smirked.

Minutes later their positions were switched. Draco was now resting against the cool tiles while Harry dropped to his knees.

Draco was surprised when, instead of his cock, Harry sucked his balls into his mouth, swirling his tongue over them, before pulling back and giving them a few gentle licks.

Then he turned his attention to the blond's cock, teasing his head relentlessly with flicks of his tongue. Draco ran his fingers through his boyfriend's soaking hair as the dark head bobbed up and down on his shaft.

Harry opened his mouth wider as he felt the head of Draco's cock nudge at the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, accepting his boyfriend's length into the tight passageway of his throat, and hummed, the vibrations causing Draco to emit a loud keening pulled back until almost all of Draco was out of his mouth - before plunging down onto his shaft, taking him all the way into the depths of his throat.

Unable to hold back any longer, Draco's cock began to swell within Harry's mouth and he gave a few sharp, jabbing thrusts. His words became an incoherent stream of babble as his cock began to pulse and a stream of hot cum spurted into Harry's waiting mouth.

Harry continued to gently clean every last drop of seed from Draco's now limp cock, until the blond was unable to stand it any longer. He allowed himself to look up at the sated blond, and revelled in the look of bliss that he had put there.

Christmases at the Burrow were never this good, he thought to himself.


	46. Stuffing Your Face

After the boys were done with their _shower_, they made their way back into Draco's room to dress. Harry pulled on a pair of black combats and, with a grin, tugged his new t-shirt on over his head.

Draco, however, could not be persuaded to wear his. Not even the sight of Pansy wearing hers made him relent. Spotting the stubborn pout on the blond's face, Harry let it go, but resolved to try again before the holidays were over.

The three friends headed down to breakfast, where both Harry and Draco proved to have worked up quite an appetite - much to Pansy's amusement.

"So what do you three have planned for this morning?" Narcissa enquired politely, as the elves cleared away the last traces of their meal.

"I'm going to try my new broom out," Draco replied instantly, before turning to his boyfriend. "I've got a Snitch, we could play some one on one, if you like?"

Harry nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a good idea. But I need to write a letter first."

Then, seeing Draco's raised eyebrow, he explained further. "I want to thank Dudley for sending those photos."

"But why, Harry? He was awful to you."

Harry just shrugged. "I know we never got on, but then neither did you and me, and look at us now. He's made the first effort, and it's only polite that I reply."

"Well said, Harry." Narcissa beamed approvingly. "It's refreshing to see good manners on youngsters nowadays. They are fast becoming a thing of the past."

"Harry's had his own personal etiquette tutor," Pansy interjected, chuckling to herself.

"Yes, well, Draco always was very particular," Narcissa admitted, smiling. "He gets that from his father."

Seeing the smile fall from Narcissa's face at the mention of her absent husband, Pansy swiftly changed the subject.

"Harry, do you think if I wrote to Charlie, that you could send it? I don't really

want his entire family knowing it's from me."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "That's fine. I really should write and thank George for the present he bought Draco and I. I'll put your letter in with mine, and then he can give it to Charlie when no one is around."

"Why the need for secrecy?" Andromeda enquired, unable to suppress her curiosity.

Draco smirked at this. "It would certainly cause some confusion, considering that most of the Weasley family think that Pansy is currently dating Harry. He'll have the Weasel on the Floo telling him that you're cheating on him, Pans."

"Ah, I can see how that might be difficult," Narcissa agreed, pushing her chair back from the table. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Andromeda and I are attending Mass at the local church, and we really must be leaving shortly."

"Mass?" Draco repeated, confusion etched on his face.

"It's a Muggle thing," Harry attempted to explain, though none too sure himself.

"My husband's family were quite religious," Andromeda explained. "After he entered the wizarding world there wasn't really much opportunity for him to practice his beliefs, but he always attended Mass at Christmas. It became a sort of family tradition, one that I want to continue, to honour his memory. Narcissa has kindly offered to accompany me."

"Do you want us to watch Teddy for you?" Pansy offered, impulsively.

"Thank you, dear. That would be a great help. I think that sitting still and quietly for an hour might just prove too much for him to manage."

"I don't think he'll be any trouble," Pansy mused, as she looked at the placid baby, who was now busy, slobbering all over the soft green fur of his new best friend.

* * *

As the group went their separate ways, Harry and Pansy headed into the drawing room. They secured Teddy in his playpen, and then seated themselves at the ornate desk. Producing parchment and quills, Pansy handed some to Harry before turning back to her task.

Harry sucked thoughtfully on the end of his quill, as he pondered what on earth to say to Dudley. He knew it wasn't just good manners that was prompting him to reply, there was a large amount of curiosity too.

He looked at how much he and Draco had had to overcome to get to the point they were at now. If there was the tiniest chance that he and Dudley could put the unpleasant past behind them, then he was going to grab at it with both hands.

The Weasleys were a wonderful surrogate family, and Draco and Pansy were certainly helping to fill holes in his life. But Dudley was family, he was blood, and that made all the difference.

In the end, Harry settled for a fairly simple message. Just thanking his cousin, making polite enquiries as to what the boy was up to nowadays, and wishing him a merry Christmas. He even managed to swallow his resentment long enough to ask after his aunt and uncle.

He leant back on his chair and reread the note with satisfaction. It held just the right amount of interest, without leaving himself open to rejection again.

Harry then moved on to scribble a short note to George. He made several veiled threats as to what he would do to the redhead next time they met, in payment for sending such a present to be opened at a family gathering. He also explained about Pansy's letter and then finished up with a teasing thank you for the present, alluding to the hours of fun he was sure that he and Draco would have with it.

Pansy peered over his shoulder at this point, having finished her own missive.

"Are you ever going to tell me what was in that box?" she pouted.

Harry grinned. "Let's just say that George has obviously been into an 'adults only' store."

Pansy's eyes widened in understanding. "I bet that made Draco's day," she chuckled. "He's probably off planning what to do to you with them as we speak. He's a kinky little devil, your boyfriend."

"So I'm told. With any luck, I'll get to find out first hand."

Pansy gave a shriek and slapped Harry's arm playfully. "Harry Potter! You bad boy. I always thought you were so innocent."

"I was," Harry agreed. "Hanging around with you Slytherins has corrupted me."

Pansy just snickered at this. She folded up her parchment and sealed it.

"Here, put this with yours then."Harry took the note off her and then sealed his own letter. He addressed one to Mrs. Figg - he didn't think that sending an owl direct to No.4 Privet Drive would be a very good idea, and the other he sent to the Burrow.

Once the two friends had wrapped up warmly, and Harry had grabbed his broom, they headed outside to the Manor's small owlery.

"So," Harry began, glancing slyly at the girl by his side. "Charlie Weasley, hmm?"

A slow smile spread across Pansy's face and one hand began absently fingering the pendant at her throat.

"He's nice," was all she said.

"Nice?" Harry repeated, in a disbelieving tone.

"Okay then, I like him. He's cute and funny, and for some reason I don't freak out when he touches me."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I think so. It's just a shame he lives in Romania most of the year."

"Maybe you could go and visit him, once school has finished?"

Pansy looked faintly alarmed at this suggestion. Charlie's touch may not repulse her, but that was a long way from staying with him - alone.

"Maybe we could all go," Harry tried again. "Give you a chance to get to know him better."

Pansy relaxed slightly at this suggestion and nodded faintly.

Once the letters had been secured to a pair of stately eagle owls, Pansy returned to the house with Teddy, and Harry mounted his broom and shot off in search of his boyfriend.

* * *

Christmas dinner at the Manor was a sight to behold. Harry was sure he could hear the dining table groaning from the weight of all the food on it.

Harry and Draco were dressed similarly in black dress pants, teamed with their new cashmere sweaters. Harry had voiced the idea of him wearing this year's 'Weasley jumper', not from any real desire to wear it, but more from a desire to see the reaction on his boyfriend's face.

Draco had not disappointed, and after much indignant spluttering on the blond's part, Harry had been forced to promise never to wear the offending article of clothing in his presence - ever!

The house-elves fluttered excitedly around the dining room, ensuring that their every want was met. Harry couldn't help but smile to himself as he imagined Ron's reaction to a feast of this size. Mrs Weasley certainly knew how to lay on a good spread, but the Manor's elves had completely blown her out of the water with their efforts.

Eventually, even Harry was forced to admit defeat as he turned down the offer of seconds of Christmas pudding. He leant back in his chair, one hand resting lightly on his expanded stomach. What he really wanted to do was unbutton his trousers to give himself room to breath, but he very much doubted that this was the kind of behaviour that was accepted at the Malfoy's table.

Narcissa took pity on the younger members of the party and waved them off towards the sitting room. Harry paused in the doorway and shyly asked his hostess if it would be okay if he used their Floo to call the Weasleys. Narcissa just smiled warmly and directed him to the ornate fireplace in the drawing room.

Harry grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the antique urn on the hearth and dropped to his knees. Trying his best not to make a mess, he threw the powder into the flames and thrust his head in.

"The Burrow," he requested clearly.

He found himself looking into the surprisingly empty living room at the Burrow.

"Ron!" he shouted, as loud as he dared.

After a minute or so had passed and still no redhead had appeared, he tried again.

"Ron!" He made his voice a little louder this time. He couldn't figure out where on earth they all were. He had never seen the Burrow so quiet.

Just as Harry was reluctantly pulling out of the flames, the door banged open and a harassed Mrs Weasley appeared.

"Oh, Harry dear. Have you been there long? Things have been a little…unusual round here today."

"It's fine, Mrs Weasley," Harry reassured. "Happy Christmas."

"What? Oh yes, Happy Christmas to you too. We did miss you today. How are things going?"

"Really good." Harry nodded, as if to emphasise the point. "It was a little quieter than a Weasley Christmas, and I did miss you guys, but I'm having a good time."

Mrs Weasley smiled weakly. "That's nice, dear." But Harry got the impression that she really wasn't listening to him.

"Thanks for my jumper," he tried again. "Uh, is Ron about?"

"Yes, yes. I'll just get him for you." And she disappeared without another word.

Moments later, and a familiar freckled face was grinning back at him.

"Harry, mate. Good to see you."

"You too, Ron. Umm, is your mum okay? She seemed kind of off."

Ron's grin widened. "She's just had a bit of a shock, that's all. George kind of announced he was gay during dinner."

Harry choked at this and prayed that his face wasn't as red as it felt. "What, he just came right out and said it?"

Ron shook his head. "You know George. Never does anything straightforwardly. He messed with the Christmas crackers, and instead of the usual crap jokes, he just put notes in them announcing it. It caused quite a commotion, I can tell you."

Harry forced a grin onto his face. "How did they take it?"

For the life of him, Harry couldn't keep the quaver out of his voice, but he just had to ask. This was his one chance to find out if his surrogate family would be able to accept his secret, without him actually having to reveal it.

Ron chuckled. "Percy spat his dinner out all over the table, covered Fleur in cranberry sauce! Dad was just a bit overwhelmed by it, I think. And Mum, well you saw her. I don't think she knows what to think."

"What about you?" Harry pressed.

Ron just shrugged. "I'm okay with it, I guess. I mean, he's my brother, isn't he. I'm hardly going to turn my back on him over something like that. I think Charlie already knew, cos he didn't seem that surprised by it. Come to think of it, you don't seem that shocked."

Ron looked at him intently and Harry flushed guiltily.

"You could have told me, mate," Ron muttered.

"It wasn't my place to say anything, Ron. I didn't know he was planning this though."

"Bet you wished you'd come here now instead of going to the ferret's? How's that going by the way?"

"It's good, Ron; really good. You know it would have been too awkward for me at your house this year, what with everything going on with Ginny."

"Mum ripped right into her for that, you know? We barely heard a peep out of her for days. I think she's quite happy with George for creating a scene, at least Mum will ease off on her a bit."

Harry murmured something unintelligible at this, not really sure what to say, and really not wanting to get into a discussion about Ginny.

"Thanks for the present," he said, changing the subject.

"Hermione chose it," the redhead admitted sheepishly. "You know me, crap at buying presents."

"I kind of figured that out," Harry answered. "What with it being a book and all. It's good though."

"What did you get from the ferret?" Ron asked, and then carried on speaking without giving Harry a chance to respond. "That reminds me, you'll never guess what."

Harry smiled, "Well, in that case, you'll have to tell me."

Ron glared momentarily but the urge to spill his news was to strong. "Malfoy sent Mum a present. A big hamper from some posh Muggle store. I've never heard of it, but Hermione reckons it's expensive."

Harry was stunned briefly. "He never said anything," he admitted slowly, and couldn't help wondering why his boyfriend hadn't shared.

"Said it was to say thank you for her being so nice to him when he saw her at King's Cross. Mum was chuffed to bits. You might have to thank him for her though; I doubt she'll remember after today's news."

"Yeah, okay," Harry said, distractedly. "Look, I'd better get going, Ron. Draco and Pansy are waiting for me."

"How's it going, stopping with your girlfriend? Been sneaking over the landing yet?"

Harry wanted to snap that it was none of his business, but he knew how much of an effort it took for Ron to talk about either of the Slytherins without insulting them.

"Behave, Ron. I don't ask about you and Hermione."

"Can't blame a bloke for trying. I'll let you get off then. I'd better get back in there; when I left, Percy was suggesting that George needed admitting to St Mungo's. Honestly, he's only been back in the family for five minutes. You'd think he would know when to hold his tongue."

* * *

Draco and Pansy were sprawled over the floor in front of the fire when Harry joined them. They stopped talking when they heard the door close, and looked guiltily over their shoulders.

"What are you two up too?" Harry questioned, as he slumped to the floor at Draco's side.

"Nothing much," Pansy replied airily. "Just planning our New Year's Party."

"Oh," Harry answered, as he rolled onto his back. His stomach was still too full to lie on.

"Poor baby," Draco sympathised, rubbing soothing circles on his boyfriend's tummy. "That's what you get for stuffing your face. I swear, I thought the Weasel was at the table with me."Harry glared at his boyfriend but then decided it required too much effort.

"I didn't know we were having a party."

"Ah, well, that's because we weren't. Pansy and I only just decided that we should. You have to keep it quiet for now, I haven't exactly told Mother yet."

"She'll say yes though, won't she?" A tiny crease appeared between Pansy's eyebrows as she pondered the possibility.

Draco nodded confidently. "She'll agree," he said slowly. "But it's always best to present her with a fait accompli. If we've already planned it out, it's much harder to say no."

"It's a bit short notice though, isn't it?" Harry queried. "What if people already have plans?"

"They'll come," Pansy said with certainty. "No one's going to pass up the chance of one of Draco's parties. His birthday parties are legendary in Slytherin."

"It's true," Draco agreed, a touch smugly. "We're just working out who to invite now."

Harry rolled onto his side and peered over at the parchment. He smiled when he saw that Draco had included Ron and Hermione's names. The blond had obviously been torn by this decision, as he could see that the names had been written, and crossed out, several times before.

"Maybe you shouldn't invite them," Harry said softly, his finger pointing to his best friends names.

"Okay!" Draco didn't need telling twice and reached instantly for his quill.

Pansy's hand grabbed it first. "Hold on, Draco." She turned concerned eyes to Harry. "Why not? We thought you would want them there. Did Weasley say something to upset you just now?"

Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, and Harry's heart warmed at the sight of her protectiveness.

"No, it's nothing like that," he reassured.

"Then what?" Draco sat up with interest. "Are you ashamed to be seen with us?" he teased.

"God, no!" Harry exclaimed. "I would like to invite them, it's just that they don't know about us still, and I don't think that the best way for them to find out is to see us snogging at midnight."

Pansy chuckled at this. "That's half the reason I wanted to invite them," she admitted.

"So it had nothing to do with wanting to invite a certain older brother then?" Draco smirked as Pansy's cheeks stained pink.

"No, of course not," she answered, stoutly.

"I guess we could still invite Charlie and George," Harry mused. "I'd just have to make sure they don't mention it to Ron. I imagine George will be quite glad to escape from family gatherings at the moment."

"How come? Trouble at the Weasels?"

"Don't call them that, Draco," Harry chided. "It's not nice, and I know you don't really mean it. Not after the present that you sent Mrs. Weasley."

The blond flushed furiously at this. "Shut up, Potter," he said, roughly.

Sensing his boyfriend's discomfort, Harry forbore the teasing he had been planning. He shot a look of warning at Pansy, as he noticed the girl open her mouth ready.

Put out at being deprived of a prime chance to taunt her best friend, Pansy changed direction instantly.

"So what's up with George?"

"He kind of came out to his family over Christmas dinner."

Draco snorted. "Nice timing."

"How did it go?" Pansy asked in concern. Not that she was overly worried about George, but she knew how important the Weasleys were to Harry, and how important their feelings on this subject would prove to him.

"Okay, I think. Ron was fine with it. I think Mrs Weasley was just really shocked. Only Percy was off about it, apparently."

"He always was an arse," Draco sniffed.

"I always though he was gay," Pansy offered.

"Hardly. There's no room for anything else up his arse, not when his head is so firmly wedged up there."

"Draco!"

"Well, it's true."

"I know, but still. It's hardly the mental image I want just after I've eaten." Harry looked faintly green at the images Draco's words had conjured in his head.

"So does this mean you'll tell them about you now?" Pansy wanted to know.

"I don't know," Harry admitted reluctantly. "I mean, I was worried about what they would think, but it was never really the being gay thing that was the main problem. It was more…"

"That you're with me," Draco finished for him.

"Yes," Harry confirmed, smiling apologetically at his boyfriend. "I'm not ashamed of you, I swear," he insisted, trailing his fingertips over the blond's thigh. "But I've only just got things back on track with Ron and I don't know if our friendship is strong enough for him to accept it yet."

Draco slid his hand down and twined his fingers with Harry's. "I never thought you were ashamed of me. We'll tell people when you're ready. I'm in no particular hurry to have my private life put under the microscope anyway."

Harry felt a weight lift of him and Draco's words and he lifted their joined hands to his lips.

"As if dessert wasn't sweet enough," Pansy groaned. "Now I've got to put up

with you two as well."

"You love it, Parkinson; don't deny it. Now, as interesting as the _tales of a sexually confused redhead_ are, we have a party to plan." With that, Draco snatched the quill back of Pansy and resumed his list making.


	47. Fireworks

**Warning!! Hot boy sex coming up in this chapter!!**

* * *

As predicted, Narcissa quickly acquiesced to her son's request for a party. Not only was she willing to allow it but she also made numerous offers of assistance.

Truth be told, she still thought longingly of the days when her salons had been at the heart of fashionable wizarding society. When an invitation to a Malfoy ball was more highly prized than an Order of Merlin.

Narcissa was not naïve enough to believe that she could ever recapture those heady days of position and influence. However, that didn't stop her from yearning to hear the halls of the Manor echo, once again, with tinkling laugher, stimulating conversation, and beautiful music.

As Lucius Malfoy's trophy wife, very little had been required of her other than to look beautiful and produce the required heir. The first, she did effortlessly, and the second, she had managed early on in their marriage. It had left her with very little else to occupy her time, or her brain. So she had thrown her considerable talents into becoming the ultimate hostess. No detail was beneath her notice and, as such, her soirees were talked of in awed tones throughout polite society.

It was a gift that it seemed she had passed on to her son, and between them, they laid plans for a New Year's party to rival the ones of old. That time was limited was of no concern, they only thrived on the challenge.

After their initial assistance with the guest list, Harry and Pansy's services had been promptly dispensed with. Harry used the time apart from Draco to further bond with his godson. Narcissa had relaxed enough to allow Andromeda to assist with the industrious party planning, so Harry consequently spent a lot of time with Teddy.

Pansy was with him most of the time, in body at least. Her mind however, was elsewhere. Harry suspected that a certain red-haired dragon handler was featuring rather heavily in her daydreams.

It was good to see her mind occupied by more pleasant thoughts. Harry had no qualms about the budding friendship, romance, whatever it was. He rather suspected that the age gap, which would put most people off, would prove to be a positive thing.

Charlie was no thoughtless teenage boy, out for only one thing. He was mature enough to handle Pansy's more sensitive issues - if need be, and could be relied upon to treat her with respect. All things considered, Harry thought he couldn't have picked better for his new friend if he had tried.

It snowed quite heavily during the week between Christmas and New Year, and pretty soon, Wiltshire was buried beneath a thick blanked of crisp white snow.

Harry and Pansy amused themselves having snowball fights, building snowmen (to entertain Teddy), and on one memorable occasion, sledging down a nearby hill in the company of several local Muggle children.

Draco could not be persuaded away from his party planning long enough to join in these simple pleasures. However, he was overjoyed at the turn in the weather, informing his friends that it was perfectly in keeping with his theme. More, he could not be convinced to share.

* * *

"I don't know why you won't tell me what you're planning for this party," Harry whined to Draco one night in bed.

"Because it's a surprise and you can't keep a secret."

"I can," Harry cried, outraged at the unjust accusation.

"Oh really," Draco replied lazily. "So who was it told Pansy about our present from the gay Weasley?"

"His name is George, Draco. And I didn't exactly tell her," Harry defended. "I just gave her a hint and left it to her imagination."

Draco snorted. "This is Pansy we're talking about. Do you have any idea of the sort of things her imagination can come up with? She has, what I can only describe as an unhealthily in-depth knowledge of Muggle sex toys."

Harry squirmed a little, allowing his groin to press against Draco's thigh.

"Maybe it's time we improved our knowledge," he suggested saucily.

"Be very careful what you wish for, Harry," Draco teased.

"Wish for, dream of, fantasise about - it's all the same thing. Now get out of bed and fetch that box, I'm suddenly not tired."

Draco didn't need telling twice. The words had barely left Harry's mouth before the naked blond was back, clutching said box, and a wicked gleam in his eyes. He tipped the contents out onto the bed and surveyed them with satisfaction.

"Anything in particular catch your eye, Harry?"

Not being the most sexually experienced of teenagers, Harry was faintly bewildered by the array of toys. Certain things were self-explanatory, such as the blindfold and the various tubes of lubricant; other items were a complete mystery.

Sensing this, Draco just grinned. "How about I surprise you?"

Harry nodded eagerly, not wanting to expose his lack of knowledge.

"Anything you want to put back in the box before we start?" Draco asked, wanting to make sure Harry enjoyed it as much as he intended to.

Harry ran his eyes over the various items thoughtfully. He raised his eyes to meet Draco's gaze. "No. I trust you."

In no time at all, Draco had Harry naked, face down on the bed, with a black silk blindfold over his eyes.

"It will heighten your other senses," he reassured his boyfriend.

Draco selected a strawberry flavoured massage lotion, one that heated up on contact with skin. He straddled his boyfriend's legs and smoothed a generous amount of the liquid between his palms.

He rubbed his hands over Harry's shoulders. "You feel tense," he murmured. "Just relax."

Harry suppressed a snort at this. It was all very well for Draco to tell him to relax, but he wasn't the one blindfolded and at the mercy of a Slytherin with an array of sex toys at his disposal. But he had to admit that it did feel good, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Draco rubbed his hands over the brunet's back and legs, and Harry could feel the intense heat from the lotion tingling his naked flesh.

A contented sigh escaped Harry's lips as he felt skilled hands rubbing and kneading at his back. He hadn't realised just how tense he was until now.

Draco casually ran a teasing hand down over his boyfriend's buttocks and down his leg, before continuing back up on the other side. Harry felt a shiver course through him at this touch. His cock throbbed and he couldn't help but rut gently against the bed, aching for some friction.

"Naughty," Draco chided, placing a stilling hand on the small of Harry's back. "It's not time for that yet."

Harry whimpered at this, but stopped moving all the same.

Draco pressed his thumbs firmly into Harry's lower back, edging ever closer to the cleft of his buttocks. He moved his hands over the creamy mounds of his boyfriend's arse, kneading the soft flesh gently. As he massaged, he slowly spread the brunet's cheeks and Harry felt the cool air against his puckered hole.

Harry raised his hips slightly towards the exploring finger that was running down his crack, desperate for release. Draco gave him a light slap. "Keep still," he growled, watching in pleasure as the pale flesh pinkened.

Harry gasped loudly when he felt the first swipe of Draco's tongue over his hole. Whatever he had expected the blond to do, it certainly hadn't been that. He couldn't quite work out how something could feel so dirty and so amazing all at the same time.

Satisfied with the reaction he was eliciting from his boyfriend, Draco swirled his tongue over the puckered flesh, delighting in keening noises that he could hear coming from Harry.

He placed the tip of one finger against Harry's entrance and slowly pushed in as far as he could go. The tight heat of Harry's channel felt like velvet against his skin. He wiggled his finger teasingly, brushing lightly against his boyfriend's prostate, before pulling back out.

"More," Harry whimpered.

"Oh, you'll get more, Harry. Don't worry about that."

Draco added a second finger, scissoring them slowly, stretching Harry ready for the next step. Suddenly the fingers were withdrawn and more lube was being applied to Harry's loosened hole.

He tensed slightly as he felt the tip of something cold and hard, nudging against his entrance. "What…?"

"Shh," Draco soothed, blowing lightly on Harry's skin, his breath heating up the lotion all over again.

Draco sat back on his heels and looked in arousal at the picture his boyfriend made. His skin gleaming, cheeks flushed, eyes blindfolded, and a small plug easing its way inside his tight cavity. The blond twisted and pressed gently on the plug, slipping it in slowly, not wanting to hurt his boyfriend in any way.

Harry couldn't remember having felt this stretched out before. Not even the first time he and Draco had sex had felt like this. Draco was being as gentle as he could, but there was still a small burning sensation as the hard plastic of the plug filled him completely.

Once the widest part had breached Harry's entrance, his hole sucked the rest of the plug inside, its base resting snugly between his buttocks. He could feel his arse pulsating wildly as it became accustomed to the intrusion. Harry took a few deep breaths, willing himself to relax into the sensation.

Then Draco had him roll over onto his back and raise his hands over his head.

He heard the snap at the same time as he felt the cold metal of the cuffs tighten around his wrists. Giving an experimental tug, he realised that Draco had cuffed him to the headboard and that he was now totally at the blond's mercy.

Then the massage began all over again. Draco started by stroking Harry's face, running his fingertips in feather light strokes over the brunet's cheeks and forehead, before continuing down over his neck and chest.

He skimmed over Harry's nipples, teasing them into hard nubs, before tweaking them between thumb and forefinger. Harry arched his back at this, and then discovered that every movement caused the head of the plug to brush against his prostate, causing a shower of stars in front of his eyes.

Being unable to see what his boyfriend was doing, Harry found that he was able to focus so much more on the sensation of Draco's hands running over his taut stomach, teasing the edges of his belly button. He was biting down so hard on his lip that Draco could see it was red and swollen from the abuse.

The blonde ran a finger over the abused lip. "Don't do that," he murmured. "I want to hear you."

Hands ran along Harry's torso before drifting down over his hips and thighs. He could feel the gentle puffs of Draco's breath ghosting over his cock. A firm hand was placed on either side of Harry's groin, fingers tracing teasing circles. It was too much for the brunet to bear and he began bucking up off the bed.

"Draco, please," he begged. "I need…"

"What do you need, Harry," Draco asked, huskily. Harry could feel the heat of his breath so close to his erection and he keened in desire.

All of a sudden, Draco bobbed his head down and engulfed Harry's aching cock in his mouth. The brunet arched off the bed, desperate to bury himself deeply in the warm heat. Draco swallowed deeply, taking the cock as far in as possible, all the while his fingers massaging his boyfriend's balls.

"I can't stop," Harry gasped. "I'm gonna…"

Draco didn't need to hear the end of that sentence to know what his boyfriend meant. He felt the familiar pulsing of Harry's cock and, as the first jets of cum emptied into his eager mouth, he reached down and swiftly pulled the plug twin sensations of his orgasm and the removal of his plug, had Harry almost sobbing his relief. He was shaking slightly with the force of his release as Draco lovingly sucked the last drop of his seed from him.

Harry barely had time to catch his breath before his legs were hoisted up onto Draco's shoulders, and he felt the head of the blond's cock nudging at his entrance. Draco buried himself deep inside his boyfriend with one powerful stroke.

Harry was nicely stretched by the plug, but he still gasped loudly at the sensation. The first moment of penetration still held that incredible, heady mixture of pain, pleasure, and anticipation.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard," Draco told him.

"God, yes," Harry whimpered. "Please."

Needing no further encouragement, Draco pulled all the way out and then rammed his cock back in hard. He did this over and over, and Harry could feel his cock start to get hard again from the delicious sensation of being filled so forcefully.

Every thrust sent shockwaves through Harry's body and when he felt Draco's hand wrap round his, now hard, shaft, stroking in time to his thrusts, he moaned loudly.

"That good, Harry?" Draco panted between thrusts.

"God, yes. Please don't stop."

Suddenly, Harry's body went rigid and pearls of cum sprayed over Draco's hand and all over his own stomach. Draco growled and thrust harder, driving his own cock deep inside Harry and within seconds, he too came, filling his boyfriend's channel with his seed.

Tremors from his orgasm still ran through Harry's body and Draco lowered himself down on shaky arms, pressing their naked torsos together. He reached up, slipped the blindfold off, and found himself almost dazzled by the love shining at him in Harry's emerald eyes.

"That was amazing," he whispered. "I love you so much."

"You were amazing," Draco corrected. "And I love you more."

* * *

Harry woke on New Year 's Eve to find himself alone in Draco's bed. He could hear no sounds coming from the bathroom, so figured that the blond must have gone downstairs already.

Hopping out of bed, he padded into the bathroom and turned on the water. Stepping in, he winced slightly as the hot water stung the red chafing around his wrists.

"Bloody Slytherin," he muttered.

Harry was beginning to rethink his decision to allow Draco free reign when it came to uses of George's Christmas present. He had unleashed a monster, and that monster loved nothing better than having Harry tied down and at his mercy.

Not that Harry didn't enjoy it exceedingly while in the throws of passion. It was only in the cold light of day that he thought twice about it. Only the morning before, he had barely been able to sit down at breakfast, such had been Draco's enthusiasm with the paddle the night before.

Once again, Harry's cock disagreed with his brain. Just the mere thought of their night time activities had him hard and straining for release.

When Harry finally dressed and made his way down to breakfast, he found Pansy there alone.

"Morning, Harry. You're late. Draco keeping you up at night, is he?"

Harry snorted softly. "Something like that."

He reached over for the butter and the sleeve of his jumper rode up. Pansy grinned madly at the sight of his wrists.

"Oh, I see. It's like that, is it? Not that I'm surprised," she continued, ignoring the warning glare that Harry was shooting her. "Draco always has been a kinky little bugger - if you'll pardon the pun! I didn't think it would take long for him to corrupt you."

"Shut up, Pansy," Harry growled, nodding in the direction of a loitering house-elf.

"Quite right," she agreed. "This isn't the time. We'll go for a nice walk later and you can tell me all about it."

Harry spluttered into his cup of tea. "No, I bloody well won't. Besides, Draco would have a fit."

Pansy just smiled blithely and continued munching on her toast.

* * *

"What do you think of this one?" Pansy demanded, twirling around, causing the raspberry silk to swirl out around her.

Harry raised his head from where it had been resting comfortably on his folded arms. He ran his eyes over the dress and nodded, smiling.

"It's nice, I like it."

Pansy huffed. "They're all nice, Harry. What I'm looking for is perfect."

Harry shook his head slightly. "Shouldn't Draco be the one helping you with this. He's the expert on clothes, not me."

"True, but…" Pansy trailed off, her cheeks colouring prettily. "Draco's busy anyway."

"That's not what you were going to say." Harry sat up, cross-legged, on the bed, his interest caught.

"Oh, shut up, Potter," Pansy grumbled as she tugged the dress off over her head, not remotely concerned about standing in front of a boy dressed only in her underwear.

Despite having seen this sight several times already that day, Harry still felt a little uncomfortable. That said, he was also incredibly flattered by the level of trust that it showed Pansy had in him.

"This isn't just about looking your best for the party, is it?" Harry teased. "You want to make a good impression on a certain someone."

Muttering could be heard from where Pansy's head was currently buried in her wardrobe, and Harry got the distinct impression it was just as well he couldn't make the words out.

"How about this one?" She emerged triumphantly, holding a delicate looking dress in duck-egg blue silk.

"I think that's the one," Harry confirmed.

The door burst open at that point and a harassed looking blond entered the room.

"Don't you knock?" Pansy demanded, strategically holding the dress in front of her underwear-clad body.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Please, it's nothing I haven't seen before, and it's certainly nothing I'm interested in. What I am interested in is why you are cavorting round practically naked in front of my boyfriend?"

Pansy just smirked, but Harry hurried to allay his boyfriend's suspicious mind.

"I was just helping Pansy pick a dress for tonight."

Draco through his head back and laughed loudly at this. When he finally managed to get his amusement under control, he wiped at his tear-filled eyes and smiled at his now put-out boyfriend.

"I'm sorry, but that's the funniest thing I've heard in a long time. Pansy, have you lost your mind? Asking Harry for fashion advice?"

"Hey! I'm not that bad," Harry protested.

Draco sank onto the bed at the side of his boyfriend and clasped one of his hands, patting it gently. "Harry, as much as I love you, you are that bad. You do remember those revolting excuses for clothes that you used to wear?!"

"Didn't seem to put you off at the time."

"Well, no," Draco admitted. "But then, I was rather more interested in who was inside them."

Harry's scowl faded at this and he leaned in to give his boyfriend a quick kiss.

"Hey! As interesting as this 'dear diary' moment is, could we get back to my problem please?"

Both boys turned to face Pansy, who had, by now, slipped the new dress on.

"That's definitely the one," Harry confirmed, nodding to emphasise his approval.

"It's pretty," Draco reluctantly agreed. "But I think you should wear that green one with the silver edging."

Pansy thought for a moment, considering the suggestion. Harry however, was having none of it.

"She's going to a party, Draco, not a Slytherin convention."

Pansy grinned. "I think I'm going to go with Harry on this one."

Draco huffed. "Fine, take the advice of the fashionably stunted. It's not like I'm a style icon or anything."

Harry struggled to smother a giggle at this.

"Ordinarily you would be the first person I came to for advice on this subject. But though Harry isn't an expert on clothes, he does know…"

"Know what?" Draco glared at his friend.

"Charlie Weasley," Harry said smugly. "That's it, isn't it? Why you want my advice? You want to make a good impression on Charlie." Harry sat back on the bed in satisfaction at having worked out the mystery.

Pansy squirmed uncomfortably and Draco snorted. "Impress a Weasley? I should think that wearing an item of clothing that wasn't owned by several members of your family before you would be enough to impress them."

Harry gave the blond a sharp slap, and even Pansy glared at him.

"Play nice, Draco." Harry glared at his boyfriend. "You know you don't really feel like that, so why say it?"

Draco just shrugged. "Force of habit. I'll behave, don't worry."

Pansy wriggled out of her dress and tugged her jeans and t-shirt back on.

"Now we've got my outfit sorted, all we need to do now is pick yours out, Harry."

As the dark-haired boy began to get up off the bed, Draco's hand stilled his movements.

"There's no need to do that. I've already had one of the house-elves lay your outfit out for tonight."

"You picked my clothes for me?" Harry looked at his boyfriend with a mixture of annoyance and adoration.

"Of course. I didn't spend all week planning every minute detail of this party, to let you then wear what you wanted. It's perfect, don't worry."

Harry just shook his head, bemused. He knew that he should be feeling more angry than he was about being managed in this fashion, but there was something just so warming about Draco's behaviour that he couldn't find it within him to be cross with the blond.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do." With that, Draco got up off the bed and turned towards the door, his robes swirling out behind him.

Pansy and Harry just looked at each other and grinned. "Snape!" They both said together.

* * *

Later that evening, Harry showered and dressed in the outfit that Draco had selected for him. The shirt was a dark purple colour and in a fabric that he couldn't help but run his fingers over. At first glance it looked like silk, but it felt almost liquid to touch and reminded Harry of his invisibility cloak.

Teamed with a pair of classic black jeans, Harry had to admit that his boyfriend certainly had an eye for clothes. The shirt clung to his torso in all the right places and, as he admired his reflection in the mirror, Harry couldn't help but note how the jeans hugged his arse snugly.

He attempted to tame his hair with the product that Draco had pointedly given him for Christmas. After several failed attempts, he was forced to admit defeat; he picked up the tube and headed in the direction of Pansy's room.

Pansy was stood in front of a full-length mirror, regarding her reflection critically."Are you sure this is okay?" She demanded as soon as Harry entered the room.

"You look lovely, Pansy. Charlie won't know what hit him."

Pansy ran her fingers over the blue silk, settling the pleats that ran down the centre of the dress. She slipped into a pair of silver strappy sandals, and pulled on a silver sequined shrug.

"I hope you're right," she admitted nervously. Then, spotting the tube in Harry's hands, she stepped closer and held out her hand.

"C'mon, let's sort that mop of yours out."

Several minutes later, Pansy had managed to tame Harry's wild hair so that it now looked sexily messy, rather that the dragged-through-a-hedge-backwards look that that he usually favoured.

"I don't know how you did it." Harry sighed. "I've tried so many times and it never looks like this for me."

"Magic hands," Pansy replied, waggling her fingers at him and smirking.

Any further conversation was brought to an end by the arrival of a wide-eyed house-elf, who informed them that 'Master Draco' was most impatient that they join him in the entrance hall to welcome their guests.

* * *

As they headed down the staircase into the Hall, the two friends could see that a small number of guests had arrived already. Pansy gave Harry a nudge.

"Looks like Draco wasn't the only one playing dress-up with his boyfriend tonight," she murmured.

Harry looked confused for a moment, but then his eyes fell on a nervous looking Neville, who was hovering on the edge of the small group, looking slightly awkward in his new leather trousers. The dark-haired boy grinned and made his way over to his friend.

"Hey, Nev. He got you some then?"

"Huh? Oh, the trousers? Yes, and insisted I wear them tonight. I'm not sure they're really me though."

"I think they look great, Neville," Harry replied, running an appraising eye over his friend. "I told you, you have a nice-"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence, Potter. I've told you before about looking at arses other than mine."

Harry turned round to see Draco standing behind him. He leaned in and gave his boyfriend a quick kiss. "Relax, Draco. You know I love your arse the most."

"Not as much as I love your arse." Draco leered, before turning his attention to the other boy.

"Longbottom, good to see you. That reminds me, I must remember to thank you and Blaise for that interesting t-shirt you got me for Christmas. I'm sure I can come up with an 'appropriate' way to express my thanks."

There was a glint in the blond's eyes that made Neville gulp nervously. "I think I'll just go say hi to Seamus," he said quickly, before turning tail.

Draco turned to Harry, a devilish grin on his face. "I've still got it," he stated proudly. "C'mon." He tugged on Harry's arm. "I can hear more people arriving, we ought to be there to welcome them." With that, he hooked one arm through his boyfriend's and the other through Pansy's, and dragged them off in the direction of the front door.

Pansy's good mood was tempered somewhat by the arrival of Theo Nott and Tracey Davis. Despite her newfound attraction to Charlie, she still had feelings for the other boy, and the sight of him arm in arm with one of her friends caused faint stirrings of jealousy.

Not that she had any reason to be jealous, she told herself firmly. She had had her chance with Theo and she had made it very clear to the boy that nothing could happen between them. It had been a rather difficult conversation to have, especially as she wasn't able to tell him the true reason for her feelings.

But whenever she found herself relenting and wondering if, just maybe, she could get past what had happened, she would catch a glimpse of Theo from a certain angle, or in a certain light, and it would be like looking at his father.

So she plastered a smile on her face and welcomed the new arrivals, before turning her attention gratefully to Millicent Bulstrode who entered behind them.

As Harry watched the now constant stream of party guests arriving, he felt a knot of worry forming in his stomach. He had been expecting there to be the usual group of Slytherins and the few Gryffindors that knew about him and Draco. But as he watched Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot enter, he felt the first stirrings of panic. He tightened the grip on Draco's arm and dragged his boyfriend unceremoniously away from Blaise, and into a dark corner under the grand staircase.

"Harry! What the hell has gotten into you? I was in the middle of talking to Blaise then," Draco snapped. But then, as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could make out the worry on his boyfriend's face.

"Harry, what is it? What's the matter?"

Harry chewed nervously on his bottom lip, an action that always filled Draco with the desire to suckle on the abused flesh. However, he suppressed the urge and placed a hand on his boyfriend's arm. "Come on, it can't be that bad."

"No," Harry admitted. "It's not bad, really. It's just…when I decided not to invite Ron and Hermione, it was because I didn't want them to find out about us before I was ready. But half of these people don't know that we're together; it will be all round school by the end of the first day."

A grin spread across Draco's face and Harry huffed. "I'm glad you find it amusing. I'm not that fond of having my private life dissected by all and sundry."

"I'm not laughing at you, Harry. I was just smiling because sometimes I forget that there's a lot you don't know, being raised Muggle and all."

Harry just looked at him in confusion so Draco took pity on him.

"Everyone who's coming here tonight will be placed under a mouth-binding spell as they enter. They'll still remember everything, but they won't be able to talk about it afterwards. It's quite a common practice really."

"Oh." Was all that Harry could manage to say. He kicked himself mentally for thinking that Draco would have put him in that position, knowing how he felt. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't realise; I just panicked. And you're sure they won't be able to tell anyone else?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, Harry, I'm sure. Now stop fretting and enjoy yourself. You're acting like people finding out about us would be the worst thing ever."

"It's not that," Harry protested. "It's just that I don't think it's anyone else's business. Everything I've ever done has been public knowledge, and I like that this is just for us." He squeezed his boyfriend's hand. "You understand, don't you."

Draco squeezed back and nodded. "I do. But you know they'll have to find out sooner or later?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd prefer later. As later as possible."

Draco opened his mouth to reply but the words died in his mouth and his eyes fixed, wide, on something over Harry's shoulder. Confused, Harry turned round and spotted Dean and Luna entering the room.

"I didn't know you invited them."

"I didn't," Draco muttered darkly.

It had been Pansy who had tried to insist on adding them to the guest list, citing that they were Harry's friends as her reason, but Draco had vetoed the idea instantly. He rather suspected that she had ulterior motives for wanting them to come; she was a Slytherin, after all.

The time he had spent at the Manor during Luna's captivity was something that he steadfastly refused to think about. It had been possibly the most traumatic time of his young life; even more so that the stress and strain of his sixth year. Pansy knew some of what had transpired and he rather thought this was her way of trying to get him to confront it.

Frankly, he was amazed that Lovegood had showed up. It was beyond him how she could want to spend even a few minutes in a house where she had been held as captive for weeks on end. True, Harry had overcome similar issues, but there had been an added incentive for him.

Shaking his head, Draco supposed that the girl's nickname really did fit and she actually was loony - surely she'd have to be to show up.

He looked round the room and caught his friend's dark eyes fixed on him, watching him speculatively. He made a mental note to impress upon Pansy the danger inherent in interfering in his life. He fixed her with a trademark Malfoy glare, took a deep breath, and went to welcome his unexpected guests.

Draco's reaction to Dean and Luna's arrival did not go unnoticed by Harry. He too, was surprised to see that Luna had turned up. He had only spent about an hour as prisoner in this house, and he had agonised for days about returning. Luna, on the other hand, had been held at the Manor for weeks, being subjected to, God only knew, what kind of treatment; with Bellatrix in residence, Harry didn't like to imagine what his friend might have been subjected to.

As Harry watched the tense line of Draco's body, and the tightness of his smile, things began to fall into place. Comments that Hermione had made, Dean's thanks at the Halloween ball, and Draco's refusal to discuss the topic.

Something had happened that Easter. Something big enough that it enabled Luna and Dean to overlook what she had gone through at the hands of Draco's family, and serious enough that Draco refused to acknowledge it.

Harry could see Pansy watching nervously, concern evident in her eyes, and he resolved to speak to her about it before they returned to school.

Fortunately, the next ring of the bell heralded the arrival of their Weasley guests, and the tensions of all concerned were forgotten as they warmly welcomed their red-headed friends.

* * *

Once Draco was satisfied that everyone had arrived, he invited his guests to follow him into the ballroom. He slid his hand in Harry's, noting with satisfaction the look of surprise that slid over many-a-face at this action.

He paused at the large double-doors, and they were pulled open, with a flourish, by two, very excited, house-elves.

Harry smiled warmly at the elves before turning his attention to the spectacle in front of him. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat; he had been expecting something impressive, but this…it was breathtaking.

And judging from the various gasps he could hear coming from behind him, he wasn't the only one who thought so.

"Draco…it's amazing." He turned to face his boyfriend, eyes wide in wonder.

"Isn't it," Draco replied, a touch of smugness in his voice.

Harry turned his eyes back to the room, taking in every detail of his surroundings.

The floor was covered by, what looked like, real snow; only a small pathway had been left clear for them to make their entrance. Along the side of this path were small trees who's branches were thick with snow and sparkling with tiny twinkling lights.

The walls were overlaid with an icy white fabric, illuminated from behind in a faint blue light.

Comfortable looking white leather chairs and sofa's had been grouped together to provide intimate seating areas for those who chose time away from the dance floor; which, in itself, was amazing. In the centre stood a ornate frozen fountain, it's icicles glistening in the lights. Above, hung dozens of mirror balls that bounced light softly all over the floor.

To one side, Harry spotted a grinning Lee Jordan, standing behind a DJ booth, and on the other was a bar, carved entirely from ice, that was laden with every drink imaginable.

"How did you…I mean, you only had a week." Harry was almost speechless.

"Magic, Harry," Draco replied mysteriously. "And money too," he continued honestly. "The Malfoy name may be in the toilet, but, ironically, our money still seems welcome anywhere!"

The party got underway fairly quickly; there was none of the usual awkwardness of no one wanting to be the first on the dance floor. That position was nicely filled by both Blaise and Seamus, who seemed to have brought boundless energy with them.

Draco worked the room like a true host. Making sure his guests were relaxed and had everything they could possibly need. He would return to Harry's side intermittently, sliding his arms round the brunet's waist and kissing him deeply, before pulling back to enjoy the stunned reactions of half of the room.

Harry was relaxing in one of the white leather sofa's with Neville for company. Harry was listening intently as his friend explained how he had come out to his grandmother over the holidays.

"Bloody hell, Nev. That must have took some guts. How did she take it?"

"Surprisingly well," Neville admitted. "I was nervous as hell beforehand, but I figured that if I could face down Voldemort, then I could tell my gran the truth."

"Wow." Harry was still surprised by just how much Neville had changed from the scared boy he had once been.

"Yeah," Neville agreed. "She's a little put out that the family name won't get continued; what with me being the last male Longbottom, but more than anything I think her only concern was that I'm dating a Slytherin. Old prejudices die hard, I guess."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I know what you mean. After seeing how they reacted to George's news, I'm not worried about the Weasley's reaction to my being gay. But what I am worried about is how they'll react to me being with Draco - Ron especially."

"There's only one way to find out, mate," Neville advised.

"I know." Harry sighed. "I'm just not ready for it yet."Any further discussion on this topic was brought to an end when Blaise came bounding over and forcibly dragged a protesting Neville onto the dance floor. Harry chuckled to himself at the pleading look Neville shot him over his shoulder.

"Something amusing you, Harry?" Draco purred as he straddled his boyfriend's lap, knees placed either side of his legs.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Draco chose that moment to squirm in his lap, and all that came out was a gasp. Acting purely on instinct, Harry slid his hand's round Draco's slender waist, while the blond tangled his hands in Harry's dark locks.

Instinctively they both leaned in closer until their lips met. Draco's tongue teased Harry's bottom lip in a silent request for access that was granted readily. Harry let out a soft moan deep in his throat and flicked out his own tongue in response. Their tongues slid against each other, both of them revelling in the feelings of pleasure this exploration brought.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Harry knew he wasn't behaving rationally. Dimly he was aware that they were not alone, that they were, in fact, in a room full of their school friends, who were probably watching them at this very moment. But the pressure that Draco's shifting body was bringing to bear on his straining erection was too wonderful to give up, no matter where they were.

Draco's hands were tangled roughly in his hair and Harry felt his head pulled to the side so his boyfriend could suck and kiss his way down the sensitive skin of his neck. Harry tried desperately to arch his body up into Draco's; even as he let his head fall back, giving access to his bare throat.

Impatiently, Harry tugged Draco's shirt out of the waistband of his trousers and let his hands roam over the smooth flesh of his boyfriend's back. Tiny mewling noises escaped Draco's mouth as Harry slid his hands round onto the blond's chest, teasing his nipples into hard nubs.

Draco began rocking his hips more frantically against Harry now; both of them oblivious to the excited chatter, and the odd wolf whistle, coming from their stunned audience.

"Please, Dray," Harry begged. "I can't…"

"Then don't," Draco murmured. "Cum for me."

And Harry needed no further encouragement. Arching his hips frantically up off the sofa, he wrapped a hand tightly round Draco's neck, sealing his lips over the blond's. As his tongue plundered his boyfriend's mouth, he felt an overwhelming wave of pleasure sweep through him. He could tell by the tensing of Draco's body moments later, that his boyfriend had cum too.

Harry slumped bonelessly against the back of the sofa and Draco leant forward, pressing their damp foreheads together.

"I think that's the quickest we've ever gotten off." Harry chuckled tiredly.

"It's also the first time we've done it in front of an audience," Draco replied, not sure if his boyfriend had realised that yet.

Harry's eyes widened in horrified realisation, but before he could speak, the sound of clapping could be heard. Turning to look in the direction of the noise, both boys found themselves facing a grinning Pansy.

"When you throw a party, you certainly go all out to entertain your guests, Draco. That has to be the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Well make the most of it, Parkinson. It's the first and the last time you'll ever see it." Draco snapped a little because he could feel the waves of mortification that were already sweeping over his boyfriend.

"That's okay," Pansy replied. "I think the memory of this will keep me going for years."

Harry peered round the side of Draco and blushed even more fiercely when he realised that Charlie Weasley was stood there grinning at him also.

"Hi, Charlie."

"Hey, Harry. I would ask how you are, but after that performance, I figure it's a redundant question."

"Can we help you two with something?" Draco huffed, annoyed that their post-coital bliss was being intruded upon.

"I was just accosted by a very persistent house-elf muttering something about getting everyone outside," Pansy explained indignantly

Draco's eyes widened and he looked quickly at his watch. "Merlin! I didn't realise it was that time already."

He leapt of Harry's knee and was about to hurry off, when he realised that he had a very sticky problem. Reaching for his wand, he cast a couple of discreet Cleaning Charms on himself and Harry, kissed his boyfriend quickly, and then disappeared.

Harry leant back against the leather sofa, somewhat bewildered by the events so far.

"Having a good time, Harry?" Pansy enquired, biting back laughter.

Harry raised his head slightly and nodded. "Yeah, are you?"

Pansy glanced quickly to where her hand was now snugly wrapped in Charlie's. "Yes, definitely."

Charlie chose that moment to place a gentle kiss to Pansy's cheek. "Me too," he added, smiling widely.

* * *

With Draco A.W.O.L, Harry decided he had better circulate and chat to a few people.

If he was honest, what he really wanted was to gauge people's reactions, to what had just happened, and more importantly, to the idea of him and Draco as a couple.

He didn't get very far before he was accosted by George Weasley, who thrust a drink into his empty hand.

"Here, have this. You looked like you just worked up a bit of a thirst!"

Harry flushed a little and mumbled something incoherently.

George gave him a few hearty slaps on the back. "Harry, Harry, Harry. Don't be embarrassed. That was quite the performance you just put on. Almost makes me regret I didn't keep you for myself."

Harry looked at George nervously now. "Y-y-you mean…"

"Don't panic, I'm only joking. You're practically family. But I'm not the only one you should be worrying about. I practically had to restrain Seamus from joining in with you guys; I'm fairly sure that you made him cum in his pants, just from watching."

"George!"

"It's a bit late to start getting prudish, Harry." George teased with a wink, before continuing. "And it's not just Finnegan; there's that blond lad over there who hasn't taken his eyes off you since."

Harry looked in the direction that George indicated and found Ernie Macmillan staring back at him, eyes burning, unmistakeably, with lust.

"Great," Harry muttered. "Draco will have a fit if he sees that."

"Possessive is he?"

Harry snorted. "You could say that."

"Well, the two of you must be doing something right; you certainly seem to have set a trend for Gryffindor/Slytherin pairings. If I'm not mistaken, there are a couple more forming as we speak."

This caught Harry's attention; hopefully this new development might take some of the heat of him and Draco. "Really? Who?"

"Well," George pondered. "First there's my dear brother and the lovely Pansy."

Harry looked over at the couple who were now dancing slowly, wrapped tightly in each other's arms. Pansy's head was resting on Charlie's shoulder, and his cheek was gently pressed against the top of her head.

"I never thought I'd see the day that Charlie was smitten by a girl," George admitted. "I was beginning to suspect that he played for our team. That, or he was a little too fond of those dragons of his, if you know what I mean!"

Harry snorted at this and ended up spraying George with his butterbeer.

"Watch the new coat, Harry. It was a Christmas gift from two generous young men."

"Who wouldn't have bought it if they had known what you were sending in return." Harry glared meaningfully at his friend.

George only grinned from ear to ear in response. "C'mon, Harry. Don't tell me that you haven't enjoyed a good play with them."Harry shifted uncomfortably at this line of questioning.

"I knew it," George declared gleefully.

"That's not the point. What if Draco's mum had seen it?"

George dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "I knew young Malfoy would appreciate it, even if you didn't. Right kinky buggers those Slytherins."

"Is that the voice of experience speaking?" Harry teased.

"Two words, Harry," George replied. "Marcus Flint."

Harry's eyes widened at this. "You mean, you…" Harry trailed off, unable to put what he thought this meant into words.

"You're a bit too young to hear that story just yet. Ask me again in a couple of years."

Harry nodded in return, making a mental note never to raise the subject again, and desperately trying to rid his mind of the images of George and the burly Slytherin.

"So, where are these other couples then?" He questioned, changing topic quickly.

In reply, George gestured over at the DJ box, where Millicent Bulstrode stood chattering away eagerly with a, seemingly interested, Lee Jordan.

"She's been there most of the night. Lee always did have odd taste."

"She's not that bad." Harry felt the urge to defend the Slytherin girl who had been nothing but pleasant to him this year.

"No, I suppose not," George relented. "She doesn't scrub up too bad, I guess."

"So, is that it? Or are there any others?"

"Just that one." George nodded over to the far wall where Daphne Greengrass had Seamus pinned up against it. Not that the Irish boy appeared to be protesting.

Harry's eyes widened as he watched Seamus' hand snake up the back of the girls dress, pulling it so high that the lace of her panties was visible.

"Although, I think that those two are just working off the sexual tension that they built up watching you and Draco."

Harry snapped his gaze back to George and just smiled uncertainly.

A short while later, as midnight approached, Draco herded all the guests out through the French doors, onto the terrace outside the ballroom.

Lee had hooked the WWN up to the sound system so that they could hear the countdown to New Year. As the chimes struck, an array of fireworks exploded over the grounds of the Manor, to the delight of everyone.

Except Harry and Draco, who barely noticed the pyrotechnics; they were too busy wrapped in each other's arms, creating their own fireworks.


	48. Queer For A Malfoy

With less than a week left of their holidays, the days seemed to hurry past with alarming speed. For once in his life, Harry was not looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. The castle that had been his refuge from the Dursleys, the one place he could truly be himself, had now become the once place where he felt the need to hide who he was more than anything.

His time at the Manor had been perfect. Escapism at its best. The thought of returning to school, of having to hide how he felt about Draco, left more than a bitter taste in his mouth. And it wasn't just the sex he would miss - though that had been a bloody revelation - it was the multitude of little ways that they would let the other know how they felt.

Tender kisses, holding hands, intense gazes, all would have to be carefully hidden once they were back within the walls of Hogwarts.

That this need not be the case never occurred to Harry. He genuinely believed that going public with their relationship would only open him and Draco up to an intolerable level of scrutiny. Not only did the mere though of Rita Skeeter make him want to hide away forever, but he truly believed that he was protecting the blond from further hostility.

For while the wizarding world may be able to come to terms with the fact that their Saviour was gay, he seriously doubted their ability to accept that he was in love with someone who many people still though of as a Death Eater.

Despite the lack of Mark on Draco's arm, and his acquittal by the Wizengamot, most people just had to hear his surname, and see the resemblance to his father, and he was condemned instantly.

A fiery pit of resentment burned within Harry. After everything he had endured, lost, and sacrificed, he still wasn't free to live his life. People still felt like he was public property and his every move was reported and scrutinised. Harry began to despair that he would ever be allowed a 'normal' life.

Draco seemed equally distracted, although Harry suspected that his concerns lay in a different direction. In the days that had passed since their party, Draco had seemed to withdraw slowly. It was nothing so obvious that his mother or aunt would notice it. But for Harry, who spent almost 24 hours a day with the blond, it was unmissable.

There was no one single thing that Harry could point to, but there were numerous little ways that Draco revealed his inner turmoil to his boyfriend's watchful gaze. The way he would pick listlessly at his food, or the glazed, distant look that filled his eyes when he thought he was alone.

Draco was becoming increasingly irritable. And though he was careful not to take it out on Harry, it was fair to say that Pansy, and the Manor's house-elves, felt the sharp edge of his tongue on numerous occasions.

His sleep was restless, and only the night before Harry had walked in on him downing a vial of Dreamless Sleep. Not that Harry was averse to using potions, but he just wished that his boyfriend felt like he could tell him what was wrong, and let him help.

Harry was now convinced that it was the result of something that had happened to Draco at Easter, and that somehow Luna was involved. But more than that, he didn't know. But Gryffindor that he was, Harry did not want to wait patiently. They would be returning to school in two days time and he was determined to unravel this mystery before then - whether Draco liked it of not!

His best option, he knew, would be to speak to Pansy about it. But the Slytherin girl hadn't been in the most approachable of moods herself lately. Charlie Weasley had stopped by two days ago to say his goodbyes before returning to Romania. And whilst Pansy had known this was coming, and was heading back to school herself anyway, that didn't stop her from plunging, headfirst, into a fit of the sulks.

Harry seized his opportunity that afternoon when he entered the sitting room and found a relaxed looking Pansy, sprawled on the floor playing with Teddy.

He sank to the floor alongside her and reached out to pick up his godson, who was clapping excitedly at the sight of him. He settled the happy baby in his lap and couldn't help but smile when he noticed the cuddly, green dragon clutched in his chubby fist.

"I'm going to miss this when we're back at school." Harry pressed a light kiss to the top of his godson's head.

"Yeah," Pansy agreed. "A lot has changed over the holidays."

Harry tried to ignore the knowing smirk that was aimed in his direction, choosing instead to jump in with both feet.

"Pansy, what's wrong with Draco? He's obviously got something on his mind, and I think that you know what it is."

Pansy looked a little startled by his directness and didn't reply instantly. Just as Harry was about to repeat his question, she spoke softly.

"I'm not really sure," she admitted. Then, seeing the disbelieving look on Harry's face, she continued. "Oh, I know something is bothering him and I have a vague idea of what it might be. But Draco's not one for making confidences, you know?"

"So what do you think it is," Harry pressed. "It's something to do with what happened to him at Easter, isn't it?"

Pansy's eyes widened. "He told you about that?"

"No. You just did."

Pansy shook her head reluctantly. "I really don't know much about what happened. Just that when he came back to school he was different, quieter. But there was this anger that you could just see burning in his eyes. I tried asking him about it, but you know how he is. All I know is that it had something to do with that blonde Ravenclaw girl."

"Luna?"

"Yes. Didn't you see how uptight he got at the Halloween dance? Just because he had to sit next to her. That's why he threw a fit at me for inviting her on New Years Eve."

"Is that why you invited her?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yes. He needs to confront whatever it is. You and I both know how bad it is to bottle things up like that."

"You don't think…" Harry couldn't bring himself to finish the question, he was that alarmed at the prospect.

"Merlin, No! That's not Draco's style at all. He's far more likely to wait till we're back at school and then hex some first years. He can be quite vicious when he wants."

"I can imagine," Harry replied, a wry smile on his face.

"Theo still gets a nervous tic at the sight of Mrs. Norris after Draco Transfigured him into a cat last year."

"At least it wasn't a ferret." Harry chuckled softly.

A smile played at the edges of Pansy's mouth. "I wouldn't make that joke to Draco if I were you. It's still a very sore subject, even after all this time."

Harry nodded, smiling. He remembered only too well how his boyfriend had responded to the nickname 'ferret' over the years.

"So how about you, Harry? I'm sure that Teddy isn't the only thing you'll miss when you get back to school." Pansy had a sly smile on her face and Harry just knew what she was implying.

"I'm not looking forward to going back," he admitted honestly. "Being here, not having to hide or pretend, it's been amazing. Going back to school, and having to hide who I am from my friends, the thought makes me feel sick. I don't like lying to them."

"So don't then," Pansy replied, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Tell them the truth. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Are you serious? What's the worst that could happen? How about they don't accept it and I lose them?" Harry could feel his calm slipping.

"I don't think they would do that. But if they did, then they weren't your friends to start with." Pansy shifted awkwardly. "Harry, you can tell me to mind my own business if you like, but I think that it's time for you and Draco to come out of the proverbial closet."

Harry took a deep breath before replying. "Why?" He demanded harshly. "It's no one else's business what we are to each other. We know how we feel and that's all that matters."

"To you, maybe. But I think that it bothers Draco."

It was Harry's turned to look stunned. "What? He's never said."

"Well, he wouldn't, would he? That's not how Draco operates. He's never said anything to me about it either."

"So how do you know then?" For the life of him, Harry couldn't help snapping.

"I didn't say that I know, just that I think. Look, Harry. I've known Draco for a lot longer than you have, almost his entire life, and there are some things you should probably understand about him, things he'll never tell you himself."

"Like what?" Harry asked nervously, his mind racing with possibilities

"His parents love him, never doubt that. But, well, the pureblood way of raising children is a little different, especially for the male heir to the family. Draco was never allowed to just be, he was always having to strive to reach unattainable targets. I think his parents just wanted to encourage him to be the best he could be, but they just set him up to fail."

Pansy paused and ran her fingers through her dishevelled hair. "His father is a perfectionist, and nothing short of this in his son was good enough. Draco had to be the best, at everything, or incur his father's displeasure."

Harry's eyes widened in alarm at this. "You mean…?"

Pansy shook her head, understanding what he was asking. "No, they never raised a hand to Draco as far as I know. He idolised his father, and the knowledge that he had displeased him hurt him far more than any belt or cane could."

"I don't understand what this has to do with him wanting to tell people about us?" Harry frowned in confusion.

"Just this. Draco has never felt like he was good enough. I know he comes across as arrogant, but that's just a mask. Inside, he's as insecure as they come. I think that he takes your reluctance to tell people as a sign that you don't think he's good enough for you. That you're just killing time with him until someone more worthwhile comes along."

Harry set his squirming godson down on the floor and turned stunned eyes to Pansy. "But he can't think that. He knows how I feel about him."

"I'm sure he does. But I think that on some level, some small part of him just thinks you're ashamed of him."

Harry slumped back against the edge of the nearest sofa and rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I had no idea he felt like that. Why wouldn't he tell me?" He cringed at the faint note of pleading in his voice, but he had to know.

Pansy just shrugged. "Because that's just Draco. He's opened up more to you these last few months than I've ever seen before. But everyone has their secrets, don't they?" She wound up with a meaningful glance at Harry, who flushed at the reminder of the things they were both keeping hidden from the blond.

"So what do I do? I don't want him feeling like that."

Pansy smiled. "You already know the answer to that."

Harry heaved a deep sigh. He knew on some level that Pansy was right, but there were so many implications that she couldn't understand.

"It's not that simple. If I thought that it would make everything okay, I'd stand on the teacher's table at dinner and declare it to the whole school."

"That's not a half-bad idea, you know. Draco would pretend to be horrified, but secretly he'd love it."

Harry just stared at Pansy as if she had suddenly lost her mind.

"It's just a suggestion," she defended.

"A bad one," Harry muttered. "Look, this isn't really about me. Okay, well it's partly about me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about my friends' reactions, or about the Prophet getting hold of the news. But if worst comes to the worst, I'll survive. Rejection and public scrutiny are things I'm very experienced at handling." Harry let out a bitter laugh that caused Pansy to wince.

"But do you think for one minute that people would leave Draco alone, once they found out it was him? Harry Potter - gay, and with a Death Eater! - it's enough to make Rita Skeeter drool, never mind the rest of those morons who claim to be journalists."

"But Draco wasn't a Death Eater," Pansy argued.

"I know that and so do you, even the Wizengamot grasped it, but you've seen how people look at him, how they treat him because of who his father is. Do you really think that it won't get worse once they get it into their heads that he's corrupting their 'Saviour'?"

The scornful edge in Harry's voice caused Pansy to flinch. "So you're protecting him?"

Harry paused thoughtfully for a moment before replying. "Look, Pansy, I'll be honest. I'd rather not have my life opened up to public scrutiny any more than it already is. But I would put up with it if I thought it could help make Draco happy. But I won't open him up to that kind of hostile attention."

"Do you really think it would be that bad?"

Harry scoffed. "It'll be bad enough when they find out that their 'Golden Boy' is less than perfect. Just imagine how they'll react to the news that, not only am I queer, but that I'm queer for a Malfoy!"

Pansy nodded slowly, forced to admit there was some truth in this statement. Neither of them had heard the door open as Draco entered the room in time to hear Harry's last words. Only having heard part of what his boyfriend said, he quickly leapt to his own conclusions. Harry's words just seemed to confirm all his worst fears.

"Well, that's just fucking charming, Potter. At least I know how you really feel now." Draco spat the words venomously, his eyes blazing with anger. Without waiting for a reply, he quickly turned on his heel and swiftly exited the room.

Harry was frozen on the spot. He just sat and gaped in horror at the space his boyfriend had recently occupied.

"Go after him, idiot," Pansy urged. The sharp poke she gave him brought him back to his senses. Harry quickly scrambled to his feet and hurried after the blond. He was moments too late, though. He entered the drawing room just in time to see Draco step into the fireplace and vanish in a burst of green flames.

* * *

Draco didn't return before dinner and Harry didn't feel up to facing the questions that would inevitably be asked. He took the cowards way out and had Tilly bring some food to his room, leaving Pansy to make what excuses she would for his and Draco's absence.

He barely touched the food that the elf brought him. Instead, he wallowed in a hot bath, trying desperately to work out where his boyfriend and gone, and how on earth he was going to sort this mess out. He tried to ignore the tiny voice that kept telling him that if only he had just been honest about his fears in the first place, then none of this would have happened.

Harry got out of the bath and dressed in the pyjamas that Draco had got him for Christmas. A look outside at the cold wintry evening left him even more concerned for the blond's welfare. He made his way into Draco's room and curled up in the bed. At least this way he would know when his boyfriend returned. Seeking any form of comfort he could, Harry reached out and snagged Draco's worn-out, stuffed lion towards him.

"Looks like it's just you and me tonight, Rory," he murmured, as he cuddled the soft body close to him, inhaling the scent of his boyfriend that lingered on the animal's sparse fur.

It was some hours later when Harry next blearily opened his eyes. A quick Tempus told him that it was past two in the morning. He flung an arm behind him to find the other half of the bed was still unoccupied; Draco had certainly not come to bed, if he was even home yet.

Harry slipped out of bed and shrugged on his dressing gown and slippers. He made his way quietly out of the room and down the hallway to the main staircase; the wall sconces dimly lighting the way. The house was in virtual silence, except for the distant sound of activity, which could have been Draco, but Harry figured was more likely to be the house-elves. That thought having given him an idea, Harry called, "Tilly" quietly, and waited for the elf to appear.

"How can I be helping Harry Potter, sir?" If Tilly was surprised to be summoned thus in the middle of the night, she did not show it.

"Do you know if Draco has come back yet?" Harry wanted to know.

The elf nodded. "Yes, sir. Master Draco returned about half an hour ago."

This didn't make Harry feel any better. Draco was obviously still too angry at him to be near him. But there was no way that he could sleep again without trying to set things right.

"Tilly, do you know where Draco is?"

The elf started nervously. "Umm, Master Draco is not wanting anyone to know, sir."

"He wouldn't mind if you told me, though," Harry coaxed, fixing his best puppy-dog eyes on the elf, hoping they worked as well on her as they usually did on his boyfriend.

The small creature shifted nervously and Harry could see her gulping. "I is not sure. Master Draco told Tilly not to tell anyone where he goes."

Harry caught this. "Goes? You mean he disappears off somewhere often?"

There was no reply, only a small nod."You have to tell me where he is now. I need to find him." Harry used his most commanding voice and he could see the elf's resolve weakening. Rather than speak, a small knobbly hand was thrust into his, and the small creature began leading him through the house.

"I is showing you, sir. Tilly doesn't want Harry Potter to get lost."

The hallways were dimly lit so Harry didn't really recognise where he was being led, though he did know it was a part of the Manor he had not yet been in during his stay. Then he felt a sickening sense of realisation where he was going; at the end of the corridor was the doorway to the cellar that he had been held prisoner in. The door was already open and a faint light was coming from within.

His guide came to a stop. "Master Draco is in there," the elf whispered nervously before disappearing.

Harry felt a wave nausea sweep over him. Coming back to the Manor had been one thing, but going down there, into the cellar, he wasn't sure he could do it. Then he remembered that that was where Draco was, and that if his suspicions about the reasons for his boyfriend's recent behaviour were right, then it was the last place that the blond should be.

He approached the doorway cautiously, swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, all thoughts of his own discomfort fled when he made out Draco's huddled form at the bottom of the steps. Harry made his way quickly down into the cellar and crouched in front of his boyfriend.

"Draco," he said gently, uncertain of what kind of reaction he might get.

Wide, unseeing grey eyes stared at him from a face blank of all expression.

"Draco," Harry tried again, starting to feel panic rise within him. He noticed that the blond was shaking slightly. Uncertain if it was from the cold, or his state of mind, Harry reached out and tentatively took hold of Draco's hands.

"You're freezing!" Harry ran his hand up Draco's arm and found that his robes were wet. "Tilly!" he shouted.

A loud crack sounded and the wide-eyed elf appeared again. She looked nervously at Draco as if expecting to be punished for revealing his location. If Draco noticed her presence, he did not acknowledge it. Before the elf could begin spluttering the apologies that Harry knew were coming, he spoke firmly:

"Tilly, I need you to go up to Draco's bathroom and run a hot bath for him. Get some clean pyjamas ready, oh, and you might put a Warming Charm on the bed too."

The elf nodded and hurried off to do his bidding. Harry didn't pay attention, he was too busy pulling Draco to his feet and stripping him of his sodden clothing.

"You're a prat, you know that?" he said affectionately. "You could catch pneumonia, sitting down here, soaking wet. Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Recognition seemed to dawn in the lifeless grey eyes. "No," Draco mumbled.

Harry tugged off his dressing gown and began to wrap it round the blond. "C'mon, let's get you upstairs and into a hot bath, before you catch your death."

Draco allowed himself to be led up out of the cellar, casting one final glance over his shoulder as they left. Harry did not miss the faint shudder that ran through the blond's body.

Harry eventually got his boyfriend upstairs and into the bathroom, though it had involved virtually carrying the blond part of the way. He stripped a still unresponsive Draco, and gently led him towards the steaming tub.

"Come on, in you get," he coaxed as if speaking to small child.

Draco voiced no objections and meekly obeyed. He clambered into the bath and

sank gratefully into the hot water. The shock of the change in body temperature seemed to bring him back to his senses.

"So," Harry said uncertainly as he watched the tremors in the blond's body subside. "You want to tell me what that was all about?"

"Not really," Draco admitted softly, refusing to make eye contact. "But I will."

Harry knelt at the side of the bath and waited patiently for his boyfriend to begin. He trailed his fingertips in the bubbles and Draco reached out and took hold of his hand, intertwining their fingers, holding his hand as if it were a lifeline.

"It was Aunt Bellatrix," he whispered hoarsely.

Harry wanted to rage, and demand to know what that bitch of a woman had done now, but he didn't want to shatter the blond's fragile calm. So he bit his tongue and squeezed Draco's hand encouragingly.

"I didn't know she was here, you know."

"Who?" Harry was confused. "Bellatrix?"

"No. Lovegood. I didn't know she was here until I got home at Easter. I knew about the old man, Ollivander, but not about Lovegood."

It seemed to be a matter of some importance so Harry replied carefully. "I believe you."

Draco looked at him intently for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. Harry could only assume that he had found whatever it was he was looking for.

"They sent me down into that cellar to take food to the prisoners. When I saw her there, I felt sick. She wasn't some stranger, some Muggle, she was a girl I went to school with; it just made everything feel so real, so near."

Draco paused for a moment as he clambered out of the bath.

"Are you sure you've warmed up properly," Harry asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, honestly," Draco reassured him.

Harry reached for a thick white fluffy towel and wrapped it round his boyfriend's naked form. "Let me," he said softly, and Draco acquiesced.

While his boyfriend dried him with loving care, Draco resumed his story."Aunt Bella used to send me down all the time to take food to them. She found it funny to treat a 'proud Malfoy' like a house-elf. I couldn't say anything, nor my parents; we weren't exactly in favour with Voldemort by then. The food they sent would barely have kept one of them alive, never mind two of them."

Draco stopped here and looked into Harry's emerald green eyes. "I couldn't watch them starve. It was bad enough that they were there and I couldn't do anything about it, but I could at least try to see that they ate better. I started smuggling extra food down for them, nothing too obvious, just little things. I managed it for two days before I was found out."

A shiver ran through the blond's body and Harry wasn't sure if it was due to his recollections, or to the cold. He quickly grabbed the warm pyjamas that Tilly had left by the door and began to dress Draco.

"It was Aunt Bella that caught me. She just laughed and said that because they'd been given something they didn't deserve, that they would have to pay for it. She was going to torture one of them and she wanted me to pick which one. But I couldn't do it, I couldn't choose. How could I pick between an old man and a girl younger than me? There was just no way."

"She got mad then, because I wouldn't play her game, so she decided to punish me instead. She said I was pathetic and weak, and that it needed to be beaten out of me. She chained me to the wall and tortured me in front of them."

"How?" Harry whispered. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer but he had to ask.

"Cruciatus," Draco answered. "I've never known pain like it before. I don't know how long she held me under, but I screamed that much that it made my throat bleed. I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up in my bedroom and he was there."

"Voldemort?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. "No, Rastaban LeStrange. I tried to sit up, but I ached so much, and anyway, as soon as I tried, he backhanded me across the face. Said I was nothing more than a traitor, and it was time I learned where my loyalties should lie."

Draco began trembling again, so Harry hurriedly buttoned up his pyjama top and led the blond into the bedroom. He lay Draco back against the mountain of fluffy pillows and tucked Rory in at his side. It was a sign of how distracted he was, that Draco did not protest this at all, he merely cuddled the toy closer.

He turned his face to look at his boyfriend, and Harry could see that Draco was biting his lip and that his eyes were starting to fill with unshed tears. He crouched at the side of the bed and stroked his hand over the blond head.

"Draco, you don't have to carry on. Not if it's upsetting you."

"It's okay. I want to finish, but I won't go into detail, if that's alright?"

"Of course it is," Harry reassured him. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"He tried to rape me," Draco blurted out suddenly, and Harry was that shocked that he wasn't entirely sure of what he had heard. But Draco didn't give time for questions.

"He put me in a Body-Bind and began touching me. It was horrible; I was still in so much pain from what Aunt Bella had done and I couldn't do anything to stop him. When he began pulling my trousers off, I just wanted to die."

Draco's voice cracked slightly on this last sentence and Harry had his arms round him instantly, rocking him gently.

"Mother stopped him. One of the house-elves had told her what had happened, and she flew into my room like some kind of avenging angel. I've never seen her like that before; it was the first time I could see that she was a true Black, and not some docile Malfoy wife. I thought she was going to kill him at one point, but she settled for some fairly unpleasant curses instead. One of which removed his balls." Draco gave a bitter laugh at this.

"Didn't she get punished for it?"

Draco shook his head. "No. Believe it or not, Aunt Bella was quite wary of Mother. Besides, Voldemort was quite the homophobe, so I doubt that Rastaban would have found any sympathy there. He would have more likely been punished again for his preferences."

They sat for a few minutes in silence, Harry's arms still tight round the blond.

"Harry." Draco's voice was soft.

Harry lifted his cheek up from where it rested on the top of the blond's head. "Hmm?"

"I'm glad I told you that, but do you think we could not mention it again? It's not something I like to think about, if I can help it."

Harry nodded slowly. "If that's what you want."

"It is."

"Okay then, I won't bring it up again. But I am glad that you told me too." He leaned in to give the blond a quick kiss, but Draco pulled away from him.

"I'm still mad at you," he said in a tight voice.

Harry's heart sank at this. For a brief moment he had forgotten that they were fighting.

"Draco," he began uncertainly. "About what I said earlier. It wasn't what you thought, you know. I don't care that you're a Malfoy, or a Slytherin, or who your dad is. I love you, Draco Malfoy."

Some of the tension eased from the blond's body at these words. "It didn't sound like you did earlier," he muttered.

"Well it's true." Harry sighed. "Look, if it will make you feel better, I'll get up on the table at dinner and announce it to the whole of the Great Hall. I don't want to keep us a secret because I'm ashamed of you. Nothing could be further from the truth."

"Then why?" Draco demanded a touch petulantly.

"Because I'm worried how people will react to you once they find out. In the fourth year, when people thought Hermione was my girlfriend, she got all kinds of hate mail. Someone even sent her bubotuber puss, and I'm just scared of what they might try to do to you. I won't have them making out you're some kind of deviant who's corrupting an innocent."

"My hero," Draco teased, but nonetheless leaned in and gave his boyfriend a quick kiss.

"So we're okay?" Harry asked, a little dazed by his boyfriend's changing moods.

"For now, Potter. But I won't be hidden away forever, and you can't keep me wrapped up like some kind of fragile ornament. I've survived worse than what any of those stupid idiots can throw at me."

"I'll tell Ron and Hermione about us, I promise."

"When?" Draco wasn't about to let Harry get away that lightly. "As soon as we get back?"

"Umm, I don't think that's a good idea. Ron's quite likely to explode when I tell him, so I'd like to do it when there aren't many people around. Next Hogsmeade weekend, I'll ask them to stay behind with me and I'll tell them then, okay?"

"I suppose it will have to be," Draco replied begrudgingly. "But make sure you do. I won't be anyone's dirty little secret - not even yours."


	49. Nightmares

Before Harry knew it, the remainder of the holidays had vanished quicker than a plate of food in front of Ron Weasley. After much frantic last minute packing, the three friends made their way back to King's Cross, leaving behind a huddle of exhausted, but relieved, house-elves. Draco had driven them to near distraction with his increasingly demanding behaviour and minor fits of hysterics that only Harry seemed able to soothe.

As they Flooed direct to Platform 9 ¾'s, Draco was still in a fit of sulks over an earlier squabble with Harry. The Gryffindor had been horrified to find his boyfriend calmly packing their stash of 'toys' into his trunk. He had patiently informed the blond that under no circumstances would he be experimenting whilst in the Slytherin boys' dormitory.

Draco had pouted and insisted that with a good Silencing Charm and well-placed wards on the bed hangings there was no reason they couldn't continue their night time activities. Harry had put his foot down and would not budge on the issue. Draco had given in gracefully and then promptly repacked them the moment that his boyfriend's back was turned.

The platform was practically empty when they arrived, and Harry was secretly grateful that the blond's histrionics had inadvertently prevented any possible repeat of the ugly scenes that had greeted the Slytherins back in September.

They scrambled onto the train, helping Pansy with her unwieldy trunk, and made their way through the carriages in search of a compartment. Unable to locate an empty one, they eventually came across one that was occupied by Neville. Harry sighed with relief and pushed the door open. He felt, rather than saw, Draco tense as he registered that Luna and Dean were also in residence. Harry reached for the blond's hand and gave it a quick reassuring squeeze, before pulling away and turning his attention back to his friends.

The journey passed fairly peacefully and without any major incident. If you didn't count the strop that Draco had when Ginny walked past their carriage and smiled shyly at Harry.

Draco had sneered at the redhead before turning to his boyfriend, a disparaging remark ready on his lips, only to find a similar, tentative smile on the Gryffindor's face. Harry's smile had died as soon as he saw the glare on the blond's face, but before he could say anything to rescue this situation, Draco huffed audibly and turned his attention to Pansy.

Halfway through the journey, Draco decided that he had punished his boyfriend sufficiently and decided to forgive him. He slid his hand over and twined his fingers with Harry's, who was currently deep in conversation with Dean. He started at the unexpected contact and looked down at their joined hands before smiling warmly at the blond.

Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione chose this moment to stick their heads in to the compartment to say hi. Harry froze at the sight of his friends and sharply pulled his hand away, completely oblivious to the hurt expression that crossed his boyfriend's face.

Draco's reaction did not go completely unnoticed, however. Neville, who was sat opposite the blond, watched the brief interaction thoughtfully and wondered if he ought to broach the subject with Harry at some point.

However, Blaise chose this moment to return from his prefect duties; listening to his boyfriend's stream of excited chatter, all thoughts of Harry and Draco left Neville's mind, and the blond's mood passed unnoticed.

Despite not having seen his friends for several weeks, Harry opted to seat himself at the Slytherin table for dinner that night. It was such a regular occurrence by now that no one raised an eyebrow. However, he did receive a number of sly grins from members of the other houses who had been at the New Years party. Nothing was actually said, but it did nothing to ease Harry's nerves about his imminent 'outing'.

Most of the Slytherin table's attention was directed towards Tracey Davis and Theodore Nott, who, after the holidays, had emerged as an established couple. Seeing the pairs' overtly affectionate behaviour, Harry discreetly looked at Pansy to gauge her reaction to the news. He was relieved to see that she had a serene expression on her face, before noticing that her fingers were gently toying with the delicate dragon pendant that adorned her neck. Sensing Harry's gaze, she turned to face him, a reassuring smile on her face.

Draco sat opposite, watching the pair with a thoughtful look on his face. He was still smarting slightly from, what had felt like, Harry's rejection of him on the train earlier. He tried to soothe his hurt feelings by reminding himself of Harry's promise to tell his friends about them. However, he couldn't quite shift the cloud that had settled over his golden head.

Draco had tried to be as understanding as he could of Harry's fears. But although he was a fairly private person himself, he just didn't share his boyfriend's concerns. Growing up as both the child of a known Death Eater, and a member of Slytherin house, Draco was used to receiving a less than warm reception from those outside his friends and family.

The opinions of strangers just didn't matter to him. The only person he had truly been nervous of telling about his relationship with Harry had been his father. And yet, despite this, he had still done it.

Draco tried his hardest not to be angry with Harry. He had promised to tell his friends in a few short weeks time, and Draco just had to trust that he would.

The blond was startled from his silent reverie by the sight of Ginny Weasley making her way, purposefully, towards the Slytherin table with a determined look on her face. Sitting with their backs to the room, Harry and Pansy remained unaware of the impending confrontation until they caught sight of the cold expression on Draco's face. Before either of them had chance to question this, a quiet cough from behind caught their attention.

Turning in their seats, they were greeted by the sight of Ginny watching them calmly, her shoulders pulled back and, what some might have called, a determined set to her chin. To Draco, it just appeared as a defiant gesture.

"Ginny," Harry said after a moments pause. Pansy remained silent at this side, watching the redhead apprehensively. Draco, meanwhile, had already slid his wand from his robes in preparation.

"Harry," Ginny acknowledged before turning her attention to the Slytherin girl. "I want to apologise for how I behaved towards you last term. It was unacceptable; I don't know what came over me."

"Apology accepted," Pansy replied in equally calm tones. Not that she believed a word of it, but she could see the look of relief on Harry's face at this sudden development and she didn't want to take that away.

Ginny nodded and then her focus shifted. "You too, Harry. I'm sorry for how I acted. I hope we can put it behind us."

Draco could have kicked his boyfriend hard as he smiled warmly at his ex-girlfriend.

"Of course we can, Gin. You know I hated arguing with you."

The smile that Ginny turned on Harry was almost blinding in its brightness. She dipped her head and quickly pecked his cheek.

"I'm so glad. I hate not being friends with you, too." With that, she turned away and headed back to her seat.

Harry sat, a little dazed, while Draco watched the girl's progress across the Great Hall with narrowed eyes. He noted, with some surprise, that she didn't make for the Gryffindor table. Instead, she slid into an empty seat at the Hufflepuff table, next to Wayne Hopkins, who promptly put his arm round her and kissed her soundly.

When the couple pulled apart, Draco noted that both of them cast discreet glances in the direction of the Slytherins. Faintly disgusted by the blatant display, Draco turned his attention to the Gryffindor table, smiling to himself at the looks of complete surprise on Ron and Hermione's faces. As his eyes travelled further along the table, he noted that someone else was watching the happenings at the Hufflepuff table.

Neville Longbottom was eyeing Ginny's antics with a thoughtful expression on his face. Catching the other boy's gaze, Draco inclined his head in acknowledgement. He rather thought he had found another person who had not been entirely convinced by the Weasley girl's show of penitence.

"Well," Harry said finally, breaking the silence. "That was unexpected."

Pansy nodded in agreement, while Draco snorted softly. "That's one word to describe it," he sneered.

Harry looked thrown by this. "What do you mean? How would you describe it?"

"Bullshit," Draco answered succinctly, and Pansy couldn't quite suppress her laughter.

Tiny creases appeared on Harry's brow as he processed this. "You don't think she meant it?" he asked finally.

Draco restrained the urge to roll his eyes; sometimes his boyfriend could be so naïve. "Of course she didn't mean it. At least, not what she said to Pansy." He paused here and looked intently at Harry. "I'm sure she meant exactly what she said to you."

"Now you're just talking in riddles," Harry sighed.

"Not at all," Draco answered calmly. "I don't think she is remotely sorry for what she did to Pansy. I do think, however, that she regrets falling out with you over it. That whole performance, including the rather revolting display a moment ago, it was all for your benefit."

Harry turned and looked in the direction that Draco indicated. "What display?"

"That idiot Hufflepuff sticking his tongue down her throat."

Harry's eyes eventually located Ginny where she sat, cuddled up to Wayne.

"She's trying to make you jealous," Draco explained in exasperation.

Harry turned back to face him. "I don't think so. I'm sure she's just moving on. Ron said their mum was pretty hard on her over the holidays."

Draco shook his head. "Harry, that girl has been obsessed with you for the best part of the last decade. She attacked Pansy because she thought you two were together. Even McGonagall couldn't get her to see sense. You really think that a couple of weeks of parental disapproval would change that?"

"You haven't seen Mrs Weasley when she loses it."

"No, but I've seen people like her daughter before. And if that apology was genuine, well, I'll…"

"You'll what?" Blaise questioned, joining in the conversation.

"Start sleeping with women," Draco finished, with a smirk.

"You will not," Harry responded hotly, glaring at his boyfriend.

"No, you're right, I won't. That's my whole point."

Not wanting to row, Harry shrugged and turned back to his dinner. Draco was about to continue, when he met Pansy's gaze over the table. The Slytherin girl mouthed 'leave it' and for once, Draco listened.

* * *

After returning to Gryffindor tower, Harry headed up to his dormitory to change out of his school robes. Entering the room, he found that Neville and Seamus were there already.

Neville simply smiled in recognition. Seamus, however, bounded over, a broad grin on his face.

"Harry, mate! How are you?" He rounded off his remarks by giving Harry a hearty slap on the shoulder.

"Fine thanks, Shay," Harry replied, staggering slightly from the blow. "Good holidays?"

Seamus grinned even wider. "Brilliant. Me mam got me a new broom. How about you? How was Christmas with the Malfoys? That must have been quite the experience."

"It was really good," Harry, answered sincerely. "I didn't want to leave," he added softly.

"They certainly know how to throw a party, I'll give them that. New Year was a blast, wasn't it, Nev?"

Neville paused in his unpacking his trunk to nod his agreement. "I've never been to a party quite like that before," he admitted.

"You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself, Harry. That was quite the show that you and Malfoy put on."

Harry flushed brightly at his friend's teasing.

"You can talk, Seamus," Neville retorted. "You were the one getting a blow job of Daphne Greengrass while everyone else was watching the fireworks."

Seamus just shrugged, not embarrassed in the slighted. "Just doing my bit for inter-house unity. There's something to be said for Slytherins - not that I have to tell you two that. Especially you, Nev. Not from what I remember of Blaise."

Neville smiled tightly at this and the Irish boy seemed to sense he had overstepped an invisible mark.

"I'll see you guys in a bit. I'm heading down to the common room.

"Don't let it get to you," Harry advised, giving Neville a friendly pat on the shoulder. "He doesn't mean anything by it; it's just Seamus."

"I know that, and I know that everyone has a past. But I don't like to think of Blaise being with anyone else."

Harry nodded. "I know what you mean. I feel the same about Draco. I think he even gets a bit like that over Ginny still."

"I don't suppose it helps that she's still obsessed with you."

Harry looked at Neville thoughtfully for a minute, before slowly shaking his head. "Draco says that too, but I don't see it. She's with Wayne now, and she apologised earlier."

"Do you think she meant it?" Neville asked cautiously.

Harry's eyes widened. He was used to Draco's cynicism, but coming from Neville it was a complete shock.

"Draco doesn't, and I don't really think that Pansy did."

"But do you?" Neville persisted.

After a moment, Harry nodded slowly. "Yes, or at least I did, until everyone else started saying that they didn't."

"I'm not saying that I don't believe her. Just that it seems a bit of a sudden change. She was so dead set against doing it for months, and now, all of a sudden, it's forgotten."

"It could happen," Harry said defensively. "Mrs Weasley is a force to be reckoned with when she wants to be."

Neville shrugged. "I guess. Just be careful, Harry. I don't think she'll give up on you quiet that easily."

Harry just nodded in agreement. He didn't really believe in what his friend was saying, but he didn't want to cause offence by saying so.

They finished the remainder of their packing in silence and then headed down to the common room. They joined the group of their friends and were promptly hailed, enthusiastically, by Ron.

"Harry! Neville! Come and save us. Hermione is torturing us with talk of study sessions and revision timetables."

Harry grinned as Hermione bristled under her boyfriend's comments.

"Really, Ron. There's no need to be so melodramatic. I was simply pointing out that NEWTs aren't so far away."

"We've got nearly five months," Ron protested.

"And you've got two years worth of work to revise in that time. You'll thank me for it when you get your results." She turned in the direction of a grinning Harry. "You will too. Neither of you will get on that Auror training programme without at least E's on your NEWTs."

Harry shifted uncomfortable at this. "I don't think I'm going to apply for that anymore," he mumbled, not daring to make eye contact with his friends.

"What do you mean?" Ron spluttered. "Of course you do. We're going to be partners."

"Ron," Hermione intervened. "If Harry doesn't want to be an Auror anymore, then that's okay. He can't do it just to please you. What are you going to do instead, Harry?"

Harry shrugged and carefully avoided Ron's outraged glare. "I'm not sure. It's just…I think I've had enough of fighting Dark wizards for one lifetime, you know?"

His friends all nodded their understanding, though Ron clearly still had issues with his friend's decision.

"I know!" Hermione exclaimed, a familiar fanatical gleam in her eye. "There's a whole careers section in the library. We can go and have a look tomorrow. There's bound to be a career for you in there somewhere."

Harry suppressed a groan and Ron let out a chuckle. "I reckon being an Auror doesn't look so bad now, eh?"

"I don't know why I'm friends with you two," Hermione huffed.

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said in an effort to appease his bushy-haired friend. "We're only kidding. That sounds like a good idea. I'd be grateful for your help; I really don't have a clue."

Hermione smiled warmly in return and then gave her boyfriend a pointed glare.

"You could play professional Quidditch," Dean suggested. "You're damn good and I bet most teams would fall over themselves to sign you."

"That'd be brilliant, mate." Ron scooted forward on his chair and joined the conversation eagerly. "Just think, if you played for the Canons then I could get to meet the whole team. And you'd probably get heaps of free tickets too."

Harry watched in amusement as his friends debated what the perks of being a Quidditch player would be. Ron's suggestion, that there would be tons of women throwing themselves at him, produced amused grins from the other three boys, and a sharp slap from his girlfriend.

"Honestly, Ron. You can be so sexist at times. Anyway, Harry already has Pansy. He wouldn't be interested in those pathetic groupies."

Harry smiled faintly at this comment and heard a distinct snigger come from Seamus' direction. Even now that he was planning to come clean with his friends, it didn't stop him feeling guilty that they didn't know such an important part of him, when so many others did. Wanting to escape before the conversation headed in a direction where he was forced to lie further, he stood up, stretching.

"I think I'm going to have an early night, guys. I'll see you all in the morning."

"That's a good idea, Harry," Hermione said approvingly. "We could all do with getting plenty of sleep; it's going to be a busy term."

* * *

Despite his best intentions, sleep proved to be fairly elusive that night. Harry tossed and turned until long after his roommates were soundly asleep.

His bed just seemed so big and empty without Draco in it. It was the first time in weeks that Harry had slept alone and he was amazed at how quickly he had become accustomed to having another warm body to curl up against.

When sleep eventually did come, it was plagued by nightmares of the kind that Harry had not experienced in months. He found himself back in the cellar at Malfoy Manor, watching as Bellatrix held Draco repeatedly under the Cruciatus Curse. And as much as he had struggled desperately to help his boyfriend, Harry found himself unable to move; forced to watch as Draco was tortured, and finally killed, by his mad aunt.

When Harry woke with a start, drenched in sweat, tangled in the bed sheets, his voice raw, he realised in dismay that he had forgotten to cast his usual Silencing Charm. It had been so long since his dreams had been this ferocious, and with Draco by his side at night, the spells had been unnecessary.

As he took in the startled faces of his three roommates, Harry cursed silently. Neville was already out of bed and crouched at his side, a hand reaching out hesitatingly. Dean and Seamus were sat on their beds, somewhat horrified expressions on their faces.

"Harry," Neville began tentatively. "Are you OK?"

Harry took several deep breaths to steady himself. "I'm fine, Nev."

"Honestly," he added, seeing the disbelieving look on his friend's face. "It was just a bad dream."

"That was some bad dream, mate," Seamus said, somewhat awkwardly. "I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't wake the whole tower the way you were screaming."

Harry flinched at this and Neville shot the Irish boy a warning glare.

"Sorry about that," Harry managed to say, his voice sounding small. "You guys go back to bed. I'll put up a Silencing Charm so I don't disturb you again."

Neville's hand gripped his arm tightly. "Don't!" he said, his voice coming out louder than he had intended.

Harry turned to him in surprise.

"You don't have to hide it from us, Harry. Nightmares are nothing to be ashamed of. After last year, I should think that most people in school get them."

His other two roommates nodded at this, and Harry grimaced. "Yeah, but the rest of you don't yell the placed down, do you?"

Neville hesitated. "I think if we'd been through, and seen what you have, then we would, yeah."

Harry bit back a sharp retort. He knew that the other boy was just trying to make him feel better, but he hated being the exception. He had suffered no more than any number of other people; Neville included. Yet he was the one screaming the place down, causing a scene…standing out again.

"It's fine," he managed finally. "Just go back to bed, please." There was a faint pleading note to his tone that made Harry cringe.

"If you're sure?" Neville stood and looked at his friend uncertainly.

"I am." Harry nodded. "Get some sleep."

Neville returned to his bed and was just burrowing under the covers when he heard Harry speak again.

"Could you do me a favour and not mention this in front of Draco. He'll only worry."

Two murmurs of assent sounded instantly. "Neville?" Harry questioned.

"OK," Neville agreed reluctantly, thinking it wouldn't be a bad thing for the Slytherin boy to find out. Someone should be worrying about Harry, as he plainly wasn't doing it himself.

* * *

"Potter looks like crap," Blaise observed as he and Neville stood in the doorway to the Great Hall.

Neville's eyes travelled to where Harry sat alone at the Gryffindor table, one elbow resting on the table, hand cradling his chin, while the other forked listlessly at his breakfast.

Harry had been gone from the dormitory long before Neville had gotten up, and the Gryffindor rather suspected that his friend had not gone back to sleep following his nightmare. There were dark smudges under his eyes and they stood out vividly against the paleness of his skin. Neville knew he wouldn't have to say anything to Draco; one look at his boyfriend and the blond would see that something was wrong.

Neville turned his attention back to the questioning eyes of his boyfriend, wondering if telling him what had happened constituted a betrayal of his promise to Harry.

"Nightmare?" Blaise questioned, inadvertently solving the Gryffindor boy's dilemma.

"H-how…" Neville looked at the other boy in surprise. His boyfriend had many qualities but perceptiveness was not usually one of them.

Blaise snorted softly. "You think yours is bad, look at mine." The Italian boy nodded in the direction of the Slytherin table, where an exhausted looking Draco Malfoy sat slightly apart from the other students. Even Pansy appeared to be giving him a wide berth.

"A tired Draco is not a happy Draco." Blaise grinned. "Just ask Theo. Not that you can, as he's currently in the hospital wing."

Neville's eyes widened and flickered nervously in the direction of the irritable blond. He made a mental note to steer clear until the danger had passed.

"He screamed the dorms down in the middle of the night," Blaise explained, wincing slightly as he spotted the death glare that was currently being sent his way by his best friend.

"Harry too," Neville confessed. "He made us promise not to tell Draco."

Blaise chuckled. "You got off light. Draco threatened a rather important part of our anatomy if either Theo or I ever mentioned it again."

"Is that why he's in the hospital?" Neville was suddenly filled with sympathy for the scrawny Slytherin boy.

"No, that was just because he took too long in the bathroom. Draco is not a morning person at the best of times."

Neville chuckled. "I guess we'd better go make sure they eat something."

Blaise just rolled his eyes, wondering when he had become the responsible one in the friendship, before making his way slowly to the Slytherin side of the room.

Harry managed to find time to slip back up to the dorms before first lesson. The lack of sleep had hit him hard and he needed a Pepperup Potion if he was going to make it through the day.

Once lessons began he was infinitely grateful for the added assistance in staying awake, as teacher after teacher droned on and one about their NEWTs and just how important they were. The fervour in their voices could have put even Hermione to shame, and Harry wasn't entirely sure that some of his professors weren't actually channelling the Gryffindor girl.

Normally the start of a new term was fairly easy going as far as the students' workload was concerned. The Professors would ease them back into study-mode gently. None of that seemed to apply this time round, however. Not only were lessons becoming fraught affairs, with teachers' manically cramming knowledge down their throats, but also their homework seemed to have increased to such a degree that it caused even Hermione to break out in a light sweat.

Not to be defeated though, the resourceful girl had created herself a self-updating workload planner that seemed to map out every spare moment of her day. Ron took one look at it and promptly bemoaned the loss of his girlfriend for the foreseeable future.

Harry gave his friend a sympathetic look, which turned to one of horror when Hermione swiftly produced two further timetables and presented him and Ron with one each. Both boys protested wildly, especially when they noted that there was virtually no time set aside for their Quidditch practices.

"But, Hermione," Ron spluttered. "Exams aren't for months. Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?"

Harry winced at this; Ron had the timing and tact of a Jarvey. He edged off his seat, mumbling some lame excuse, and abandoned his hapless friend to his fate. He ignored the accusing look that Ron shot in his direction and hurried to the portrait hole; Hermione's shrill lecturing echoing after him.

He made his way down to the Slytherin common room and was soon cuddling up next to Draco on one of the comfy sofas. He peered at the parchment in the blond's lap.

"What are you up to?" he enquired curiously.

Draco set his work to one side and wordlessly tugged Harry onto his lap, one arm encircling the smaller boy's waist. He pressed a light kiss to the tip of Harry's nose."Hi."

"Hi, yourself," Harry replied, relaxing against the blond's chest. He spotted Pansy and Millicent cooing at what a 'cute pair' they were; he poked his tongue out at the two girls and then turned his attention back to his boyfriend.

"So, what are you going? Homework?"

Draco shook his head and reached for the parchment. "No. I was working out a schedule for us."

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach. "A what?"

"A schedule," Draco repeated, settling the sheet on Harry's lap. "Look, there's colour coded slots for each subject and I've even put in Quidditch practice too. NEWTs aren't far off and we need to be organised."

Harry was looking at his boyfriend with a mixture of horror and betrayal.

"Why stop there. Why don't you timetable…" He peered closer at the parchment. "You did! Draco, you scheduled our bloody sex life."

The words came out louder than he expected, and a cluster of giggles sounded from a group of third year girls. Harry fixed them with a fierce glare; he hadn't dated Draco for nearly three months without picking up a thing or too.

"It's not sex," Draco hissed quietly. "Well, not just sex," he added. "I don't see what the problem is."

Harry slumped back against him with a pained groan. "I'm dating Hermione," he moaned piteously.

For that remark, he found himself unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. As he looked up dazedly at his scowling boyfriend, the thought occurred to him that he was probably on a par with Ron when it came to saying the wrong thing.

* * *

During the first few weeks of term, Harry found that he didn't get to see nearly as much of his boyfriend as he would have liked.

After spending the holidays together, Harry had gotten used to being with Draco constantly. He found that now they were back at school, he was seeing less of the blond than ever. It wasn't just down to studying; the Slytherin/Ravenclaw game was approaching and Draco was determined to win. He had not given up on the idea of winning the Quidditch cup in his last year at school, and as such, was spending most of his spare time drilling his team mercilessly.

Harry tried hard not to mind. He knew that schoolwork was almost as important to Draco as it was to Hermione, but he rather suspected that the blond prized the Quidditch cup even higher than his NEWT results. Even as much as he wanted to win it for Gryffindor one last time, Harry secretly wanted to see the smile of pure joy that would certainly accompany Draco's victory.

Following her apology to Pansy, Professor McGonagall had lifted Ginny's ban on extra-curricular activities. This meant that the Gryffindor girl was once again free to play Quidditch.

Harry was rather surprised that the redhead hadn't approached him yet about retaking her old place on the house team. He was quite relived that the subject hadn't risen though. Because as good a chaser as Ginny was, Natalie McDonald had more than proved her worth in their last game, and Harry was loath to lose her. Plus, the younger girl didn't come with all the attendant awkwardness and baggage that the older girl did.

However, with the start of team practices in the offing, Harry knew it was something he would have to address, sooner rather than later. Things between him and Ginny seemed to have settled down nicely. They would never be as close as they once were - too much had happened between them for that to happen. But they were getting along reasonably well and Harry didn't want to do anything to damage that.

He was relieved the, when Ginny approached him herself and effectively resigned from the team. She had cited a desire to concentrate on her studies as the reason behind this decision. Harry didn't although believe that, but as it had just avoided a potentially volatile situation he didn't question it.

Since Ginny had apologised on the first night of term, Harry found himself observing the redhead discreetly. Always wanting to see the best in people, his first instinct had been to accept the apology at face value and put the conflict behind him.

Had it just been Draco who had cast doubt on the girl's sincerity, then Harry would probably have dismissed it as part of his boyfriend's cynical Slytherin nature. But when Neville, of all people, had voiced his suspicions, Harry had felt compelled to take notice.

Maybe because he wasn't particularly observant, and tended to judge people based on his own standards of behaviour, Harry was unable to spot anything 'off' in Ginny's behaviour. The girl behaved perfectly pleasant towards him and seemed more than happy with Wayne Hopkins.

Harry had even done some minor detective work and had questioned Ron about that particular relationship. Draco seemed to believe that it was all faked, but it looked real enough to Harry, and Ron revealed that the Hufflepuff boy had been a frequent visitor to the Burrow over the holidays. Apparently, Mrs Weasley had gotten quite flustered at the amount of times the two of them had disappeared off to Ginny's room.

All of this put Harry's mind at rest. And with the Quidditch issue resolved peacefully, he put Ginny Weasley from his thoughts entirely. Besides, the posters had just gone up in the common room advertising the date for the next Hogsmeade weekend, which meant that Harry had more pressing issues to worry about.


	50. HouseElf Connections

From the moment that the Hogsmeade weekend announcement was made, Harry found that he didn't get a moments peace. Every time they were together, Draco would find some way to slip it into the conversation.

Harry thought it was bad enough that his stomach clenched in anxiety every time he passed the posters in the common room, without Draco reminding him of it at every turn.

Every morning that week they had virtually the same conversation and by Friday, Harry was more than a little tired of it.

"Have you spoken to them yet?"

Harry sighed and turned to face his boyfriend. "No, not yet."

"Why not?" Draco's voice was a little whiny and Harry took a deep breath to calm himself before replying.

"I just haven't gotten round to it yet, but I will."

"When?"

Harry's goblet slammed forcefully onto the table causing Blaise and Pansy to raise eyebrows in his direction.

"Soon. Now just let it go, yeah?"

"I don't see why-"

"For Merlin's sake, Draco," Harry snapped, finally at the end of his patience. "I gave you my word that I'll talk to them, and I will. Why isn't that enough for you?"

The instant that the words left his mouth, he found that he regretted them. Instead of the anger Harry expected to see on Draco's face, there was an expression of hurt. A flash of vulnerability crossed the blond's face briefly before his reserved mask slid into place quickly. But not so quickly that Harry didn't see it.

Trying to keep in mind Pansy's words about Draco's insecurities, Harry squashed down his irritation and sought to placate his boyfriend. He scooted closer to the blond so that they were pressed together, hip to knee, and discreetly slid his hand onto Draco's thigh. Harry felt him tense under his touch, but was relieved to find that he wasn't rebuffed.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his thumb pressing circles into Draco's flesh. "I didn't mean to…It's just…"

Draco turned to meet his gaze, his face expressionless. "What?"

Looking at Draco in that moment, Harry knew that many would consider the Slytherin to be cold and unfeeling - but he knew different. He had been privileged enough to see beyond the cool exterior to the bundle of contradictions and insecurities that lay beneath. It was moments like this that made Harry wish the world knew about the two of them, because he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms round his boyfriend and make everything OK.

"I'll do it this weekend." Harry knew he was giving in, acquiescing to Draco's demands, but he just didn't want to fight. And it really wasn't that big a price to pay, not when he considered the smile that lit up the blond's face, or the way that he slid his own hand under the table and laced their fingers together.

All he had to do was speak to Ron and Hermione, to explain that he needed to talk to them about something important and ask if they would stay behind next weekend when all the other students were in Hogsmeade. Really, this was the easy part. If he couldn't bring himself to do that, how on earth was he ever going to tell them about him and Draco?

That evening Harry stayed in Gryffindor tower. Draco had a Quidditch game the next day and had opted for an early night. Harry had smiled indulgently at the time, but later, brooding alone in his dorm, he wanted nothing more that to be wrapped in his boyfriend's arms.

As he lay on his bed, dwelling on his problems, imagining all the horrible ways things could go wrong once his friends knew the truth, he heard a click and Neville entered the room. The fair-haired boy slumped onto his own bed and grinned across at Harry.

"You're a Quidditch widow for the evening as well then?"

Harry pulled himself up into a seating position and nodded glumly.

"Are you OK, Harry? It's just that Blaise said you and Draco nearly had a fight at breakfast."

Biting back the impulse to tell his friend to mind his own business, Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his messy hair. "Yeah, we did. He just kept going on about me speaking to Ron and Hermione about next weekend and I just lost it a bit."

"Hogsmeade, you mean?" Neville asked in confusion.

"I promised him that I would tell them about us next weekend. Ever since those damn posters went up he keeps nagging me to ask them about it." Harry's frustration coloured his tone but he made no effort to hide it. Neville and Blaise were still firmly in the Hogwarts closet themselves, so he figured he would get a little understanding.

"Oh." Neville said nothing further but something in his tone put Harry on the defensive.

"What?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Neville replied warily.

"No, come on. You obviously have something to say, so lets hear it." For the life of him, Harry couldn't stop the words. All the irritation he had felt with Draco for the last week, everything he had bottled up, it was all coming to the fore, and Neville was bearing the brunt of it.

Harry glared at his roommate and watched as the other boy squirmed uncomfortably. Neville was mentally kicking himself. Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut? Although, in his defence, he had hardly expected the word 'oh' to garner such hostility. But Harry's temper was legendary in Gryffindor, probably in the whole of Hogwarts, Neville thought on reflection. And short lived though it was, being in the eye of the storm itself was not a good place to be.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Harry. It's just…well, it can't be easy for Draco, having to hide how he feels. Especially when most of the school think that his boyfriend is dating his best friend."

"It's hardly a fucking party for me either, Neville. You think I like having to hide who I am, or lie to my friends?"

"You don't have to, though," Neville replied softly. "Draco hasn't."

"So you're on his side then?" Harry snapped. He was irritated beyond belief that the one person he had come to rely on for support, was taking Draco's part.

"I'm not taking sides, Harry. Neither of you is really in the wrong. But look at it from his point of view. All of his friends, his whole house and his family know about the two of you. Merlin, Harry, he went to Azkaban to tell his father. He faced Lucius Malfoy and told him he was in love with, not just another boy, but the boy who put him in prison in the first place. He did all that and you can't even face Ron and Hermione. I know Ron's got a temper, but really, who would you rather face?"

"It isn't that I don't want to tell them," Harry said mulishly. "It's just not that simple."

Feeling brave, Neville crossed the room and perched on the edge of his friend's bed. "It really is," he ventured. "It may be awkward and uncomfortable, but it's very simple."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but he was suddenly unsure of what to say. Neville was right. Draco had put everything on the line for their relationship, and he couldn't do this one thing.

Seizing his chance, Neville continued. "I know you don't mean it this way, but Draco probably takes your reluctance to mean that you're not serious, or worse, that you're ashamed."

"I'm not! It's just…"

"I know, and I'm sure that he does too, deep down. But that doesn't stop the niggling doubts."

"How did you get to be so wise?" Harry was over his temper now and was just staring at his friend in amazement.

Neville shrugged. "I just know how it feels."

Harry frowned briefly before his eyes widened in understanding. "Blaise?"Neville nodded. "Once I told gran at Christmas, I told him that I wanted us to stop hiding like we were doing something wrong. But he won't."

"Do his family know?"

"His dad's dead, has been for years. He says his mum does know that he's gay, but that she pretends not to. So he said it was a waste of time telling her."

"All his friends know, though," Harry comforted.

"I know. I don't really think it's because he's ashamed of me, but like I said, sometimes you can't help the niggling doubts."

Harry nodded. "So why does he want to hide it then?"

"He thinks he's protecting me. He thinks that everyone will give me a hard time for being with him. It's ridiculous really. I mean, last year I fought against Death Eaters and faced Voldemort. Why in the world would I be scared of what a bunch of school kids could do to me?"

Harry leant back against his pillows, deep in thought. How could he have been so stupid as to think that Draco needed protecting from public opinion? In the last couple of years, Draco had lived through more stress and pressure than most people would endure in a lifetime - and he had survived. Harry realised that he couldn't, or didn't need, to protect Draco from other people and their prejudiced outlook. What he did need to do was be there for his boyfriend whenever he needed him, and that couldn't be done while they were still hiding their relationship.

On Saturday morning, the sun was shining brightly. The air, however, was bitter, and Harry made sure to wrap up warm before heading out to meet up with Pansy; they had arranged to watch the Slytherin/Ravenclaw match together. He opened the dormitory door and almost walked straight into Ron, who was stood on the threshold, arm raised to knock.

"Hi," Harry said, thinking how strange it was to have Ron knocking when they had shared the room together for six years. It was just another reminder of how things had changed between them.

"Alright, Mate. I just wondered if you fancied going down to watch the game? Check out the opposition, you know?"

"I would, Ron, but I've already promised to meet up with Pansy. Unless, of course, you want to sit with us in the Slytherin stand?" Harry couldn't resist teasing.

A barely suppressed shudder ran through Ron's body. He may have been learning to tolerate certain Slytherins at Hermione's insistence, but years of dislike and mistrust didn't disappear overnight. Harry doubted that his friend would ever truly believe that Slytherins weren't inherently bad.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll give it a miss. Don't want to cramp your style."

Harry chuckled at this, and Ron stared in horror as his friend wound a green and silver scarf round his neck.

"It's just a scarf, Ron."

"It's a Slytherin scarf, Harry. Why would you even own one, let alone wear it?"

Harry just shrugged. "It was a Christmas present. I'm just showing my support for the team. I can hardly go down there wearing Gryffindor colours - I'd get thrown out of the stands."

The two friends began the descent into the common room, where Ron was promptly claimed by Hermione. He took one last look at his friend, shaking his head slowly. "I never thought I'd see you wearing their colours."

"Me neither." Harry grinned. "It's not all bad though. I have it on very good authority that the green really brings out my eyes."

Ron looked stumped at this and Harry quickly slipped through the portrait hole, giggling to himself.

* * *

Harry shifted up on the bench to make room for Pansy to sit. The Slytherin girl settled herself down and then turned to look at him.

"Who died?"

Harry's face was a picture of confusion. "What?"

"The expression on your face - you look like you're going to a funeral. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."

Pansy leaned in and gently bumped her shoulders against Harry's. "C'mon, Potter, spill. I'm not letting it go, so you may as well tell. You know how persistent I can be."

Harry gave a wry grin to indicate that, yes, he was only too aware of her bulldog-like persistence.

"Honestly, nothing's wrong. I was just trying to work something out. You know me and thinking - it's a painful process."

"Is it something to do with the argument that you and Draco had yesterday at breakfast," Pansy persisted.

"I wouldn't call it an argument," Harry replied defensively. Pansy just stared intently until he cracked. "OK, yes, we fell out because I haven't spoken to Ron and Hermione about next weekend yet. I promised Draco I would do it by the end of tomorrow and I'm just working out what to say."

"How about you just say that you need to talk to them and would they mind staying behind next weekend to do it? It's not that difficult, Harry."

"I was trying to find a way to say it that would stop Hermione from hounding me for the next seven days, trying to find out what it is. She can't bear not to know something."

Pansy snorted. "Should have been in Ravenclaw, that girl. Far too inquisitive by half." The Slytherin girl then reached into her bag and produced two bottles of butterbeer. She flipped the tops off and passed one to Harry. Seeing his questioning look, she smirked. "You're not the only one with house-elf connections, you know."

Harry took the offered bottle and clinked it against Pansy's in salutation. "Cheers."

"Just ask them, Harry. And if Granger really does press the issue, well, you'll just have to avoid her. How much time do you spend in Gryffindor nowadays anyway? It's only for a week."

"I guess," Harry answered noncommittally.

"Don't guess, do," Pansy instructed. "Tell you what, do it after the game. I'll even walk up to the tower with you. The sooner you do it the better. Plus, just think how happy Draco will be once you've done it. And we both know that a happy Draco puts out!"

"Pansy!" Harry exclaimed, mortified.

"Don't be such a girl, Potter," she replied briskly. "Now stop talking, the game is about to begin."

"When did you become such a Quidditch fan?"

"What's not to like? There's boys, tight trousers, and lots of physical activity leading to hot, sweaty bodies. Plus there's the added advantage that Crabbe and Goyle are no longer on the team."

She leant closer to Harry at this point and whispered conspiratorially. "They did not look good in tight pants."

Harry burst out laughing at this, causing a spray of butterbeer to spurt from his mouth and land on the back of some unsuspecting Slytherin. He cast a quick Cleaning Charm, grinned at Pansy and then turned his attention to the game.

* * *

"C'mon, move it." Pansy prodded Harry fiercely in his side with her fingertip.

The game had ended with Slytherin victorious. However, Pansy had no intention of allowing either of them to partake in the victory celebrations.

"Where are we going? I want to congratulate Draco," Harry whined.

Pansy just glared. "You know where we're going. You're going up to Gryffindor to have a little chat with the remainder of the Golden Trio, and I am walking you up there to make sure you don't bottle it halfway."

Harry glared at his friend in return, but knew arguing was pointless when Pansy was in this mood. He cast one longing glance down at the pitch, to where a beaming Draco was being congratulated by his teammates.

"If you would just get your arse into gear, and out of the closet, then you could be down there now," Pansy said pointedly.

Harry nodded to acknowledge the truth in that statement and then turned to follow Pansy, a determined set to his jaw.

* * *

"Harry!"

There was a look of definite relief on Ron's face when he saw his friend enter the common room. Harry took a quick look from him, to Hermione, to the pile of books surrounding them, and understood instantly.

"How was the game, mate? Will we have much to worry about from Ravenclaw?"

Harry considered for a moment before replying. "I don't think so. Michael Corner makes a surprisingly good Chaser, but Su Li didn't stand at chance at the Snitch against Draco."

Ron rubbed his hands together gleefully. "We'll walk it then. You're miles better than Malfoy is. It will be so good, winning the Quidditch Cup in our last year."

"Steady on, Ron," Harry warned. "We've only played one game so far."

Ron made a dismissive motion with his hands. "Everyone knows that the only real game is us against Slytherin, and we've already won that one. The Cup is as good as ours."

Hermione looked up from her work at this point. She smiled at Harry as if only just noticing him. "Hi, Harry. You look cold."

"Yeah, it's freezing out there," he agreed ruefully.

"Nice scarf," she teased, shooting a quick glance at Ron, who clenched his jaw and looked away.

Harry unwound the scarf slowly and set it on the sofa at the side of him. "It's off now, Ron. You can relax."

"Actually, Harry, I've been wanting to talk to you about next weekend."

Harry tensed momentarily. She couldn't know, could she? Hermione was good, but she wasn't that good. There was now way she could possibly know already.

"What about it?" Harry asked, hoping his friends didn't notice the waver in his voice.

"I was thinking it might be nice for us three to spend some time together, just us. We could go into Hogsmeade. It would be just like old times."

Harry refrained from telling Hermione that nothing was ever going to be like it used to be, that too much had happened this last year for them to ever go back to how they were. Hermione had an almost pleading expression on her face and Harry didn't have the heart to shatter her illusions just yet. Instead, he cleared his throat and shifted nervously in his seat.

"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you two about next weekend as well."

"Really? What about it?" Hermione was intrigued.

"Well," Harry began uncertainly, fiddling with his sleeves. "I need to talk to you guys."

"Uh, Harry? What exactly do you think we're doing now?"

"Hush, Ron." One look at Harry's face and Hermione gave her boyfriend a sharp

dig to the ribs.

"What about?" she asked gently.

"I'd rather not say right now." Harry looked around uneasily at the other occupants of the room. "It's not something I want everyone else to know just yet. I mean, they'll have to find out eventually, but just not yet."

Hermione paled. "You're not sick are you?"

This caught even Ron's attention. "Are you ill, mate?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that. It's just…it's kind of personal and I don't want other people overhearing. So I though that next weekend, when everyone is in Hogsmeade…"

"Of course we will. There'll be plenty of other opportunities for us to go to Hogsmeade." Hermione leant forward and squeezed his hand softly. "We're here for you. Aren't we, Ron?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Of course."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had done it, and Pansy had been right - it was easy.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell us about it now, Harry?" Hermione's eyes were alive with inquisitiveness and Harry promptly made his excuses and bolted for the portrait hole.

* * *

The next week seemed to fly by for Harry. The days merged together and before he knew it, it was Friday night and he had only a few short hours left before he had to lay everything on the line and risk losing it all.

Draco had wanted him to spend the night down in the dungeons. The blond had made a few lewd suggestions about how he would like to help Harry forget for the night. But the dark-haired boy had declined, opting instead, to spend the evening brooding, alone, in Gryffindor Tower.

Harry went to bed early, his mind full of memories of moments from his friendship with Ron and Hermione. He couldn't shake off the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was about to lose them. That as soon as they heard about him and Draco, they would turn their backs on him.

Unable to take it any longer, Harry opted for the easy way out and retrieved a small vial of Dreamless Sleep from his bedside cabinet. Quickly chugging the contents, he curled up under his covers and promptly fell asleep.

It was late on Saturday morning when Harry finally dragged himself out of bed and made his way down to the Great Hall. A quick look at his watch told him that breakfast would be almost over, but not even this information could persuade his reluctant feet to move any faster. His stomach was already in knots and the thought of food caused an unpleasant churning sensation.

On entering the Great Hall, Harry was relieved to see that there was no familiar head of blond hair over at the Slytherin table. In fact, there were very few students left at all. He made his way to the Gryffindor table and found himself being beckoned over by a far-too-happy-looking Dennis Creevey.

"Hiya, Harry," the younger boy enthused in tones that reminded Harry greatly of Colin.

"Hello, Dennis," he replied tiredly, slumping into the vacant seat opposite the fifth year boy.

Harry reached for a slice of toast and nibbled on it dry. He kept his eyes fixed to his plate, hoping against hope that Dennis would take the hint and leave him alone. It was not to be though, for the younger boy began to chatter excitedly.

Harry made minimal eye contact and only the odd murmur of acknowledgement, focussing on trying to keep his food down. He chewed his breakfast slowly, trying desperately to work out what it was he was going to say to Ron and Hermione. No matter how many times he tried different versions of the conversation in his head, it always ended with an explosion of temper from Ron, and a hurt expression on Hermione's face.

He was brought from his reverie by a crashing noise and babbled apologies from Dennis.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. It was an accident, honest."

Harry looked up in confusion. He saw that the younger boy had knocked over his goblet of pumpkin juice and was trying, with little success, to mop up the spillage with a sodden napkin. Pulling out his wand, Harry cast a quick Scourgify, vanishing the mess instantly. Straightening up his goblet, he reached for the jug to pour himself a refill, only to realise that it was empty.

"Have mine, Harry." Dennis slid his own drink across the table. "I've not had any out of it yet."

"It's OK, Dennis. I'll just have water."

"Take it," the younger Gryffindor pressed somewhat desperately.

Not wanting to upset the nervous boy further, Harry reached out and took the fresh goblet. "Thanks, Dennis," he murmured, drinking deeply.

When he had finally eaten all he could stomach, Harry made his excuses and fled back up to Gryffindor tower. The common room was full of students, milling around, waiting to go into Hogsmeade. Ron and Hermione were frantically trying to round up the lower years into some semblance of order so that they could marshal them down to the Entrance Hall.

Harry shot his friends a sympathetic smile.

"Thanks for the help, mate," Ron grimaced.

"Ignore him, Harry," Hermione said as she tried to round up some errant first years. "Hopefully it won't take us too long to get this lot safely into Hogsmeade and then we'll come straight back."

Ron cast a disbelieving eye over the throng of children and snorted. "By the look of this lot, I wouldn't expect us much before lunch time."

"Don't be silly, Ron," Hermione chastised. "Of course we'll be back before then, Harry. Then we can have a good talk." She smiled encouragingly and Harry wished he felt half as positive as she obviously felt. He forced a weak smile onto his face and watched as his friends disappeared out of the portrait.

Harry made his way, slowly, up to his dormitory, deciding to get a quick nap in before they returned. Considering how excited the first years had been, he figured he had a couple of hours at least before the other two managed to return.

He slumped onto his bed fully clothed and shut the hangings with a flick of his wand, trying his best not to think about his impending over an hour later, Ron and Hermione made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower, speculating as they went about what it was Harry was planning to tell them.

"You don't think he's got Pansy pregnant or something, do you?" Ron suggested in hushed tones.

"Don't be silly, Ron. Harry wouldn't do something like that." Hermione looked quickly at her boyfriend. "Would he?"

Ron just shrugged. "You never know with Harry. He's always been a bit of a mystery."

"Hmm," Hermione said thoughtfully. "He's certainly always been very secretive. I wonder what on earth it could be."

"Only one way to find out," Ron said, as they paused in front of the Fat Lady.

The portrait hole swung open slowly and the two of them made to enter. They were brought up short by the sight that greeted them. Harry was sat on one of the squashy couches with Ginny Weasley straddling his lap. Her hands were buried in his hair, while his hands seemed to have disappeared under her top. Not only that, but they seemed to be trying desperately to eat each other alive.

Ron and Hermione stood in shock, they just couldn't not look. Finally, the couple on the sofa pulled apart and began talking, their hands never leaving each other's bodies, completely oblivious to the onlookers. Ron's face went bright red and he made to walk into the room. Hermione put a calming hand on his arm and gently guided him out of the room, the portrait closing behind them.

"Well," she said quietly. "I guess that answers our questions about what Harry wanted to tell us."


	51. We Saw You

Once Hermione had calmed Ron down, and persuaded him that wading in to punch Harry was not a good idea, she managed to convince her boyfriend to return to Hogsmeade.

"But I want to hear what he has to say for himself." The redhead's temper still hung on a knife edge.

"I really don't think that's a good idea right now, Ron. You need to calm down first, or you'll just make things worse."

"Worse?" Ron spat. "My supposed best friend is in there molesting my little sister. He's already got a girlfriend."

"Ginny's not a child. She can make her own decisions, and she wasn't exactly fighting Harry off."

"So, what? You're calling her a slut, is that it?" Ron was not at his most rational.

"No! Of course not," Hermione exclaimed, horrified by the accusation. "I'm just saying that she's old enough to make her own decisions, and anyway, she won't thank you if you go blundering in there and cause a scene."

Ron just huffed angrily and Hermione continued trying to soothe his frayed temper.

"Let's just go back down to Hogsmeade. We'll have a nice relaxing time and forget about all this. Then we can talk to Harry later, once you're a little calmer."

Ron opened his mouth to protest but he caught the determined look in his girlfriend's eyes and promptly closed it again.

* * *

Draco had opted to spend the day in Hogsmeade. He had toyed with the idea of waiting round the school until Harry had spoken to his friends, but he figured that with Granger's inquisitiveness and Weasley's temper, there was no telling when Harry would manage to escape their clutches.

Plus, he figured that Harry would probably want cheering up once the deed was done, so he was planning to get his boyfriend a gift while he was out.

He headed off with Pansy and Blaise for company, both of whom were distinctly amused by their friend's almost giddy behaviour. Along the way they were joined by Neville and Seamus, and also Daphne Greengrass, who seemed to have struck up a mutually satisfying sexual relationship with the Irish Gryffindor - or fuck buddies, as Draco had explained it to Harry.

Draco was in such a good mood that he did not even murmur a protest about these additions to their group. In fact, he even went so far as to spring for several rounds of butterbeers in the Three Broomsticks.

When they left the pub, the group lingered on the pavement outside, deciding where to go next. When Draco acquiesced easily to the others' wishes, Pansy raised her hand and pressed the palm to the blond's forehead.

"What are you doing?" he asked in confusion.

"I'm just checking you for a temperature," she answered with a grin.

Draco paled a little. "Why? Do I look ill?" He turned and began checking his reflection in the window behind them.

Pansy laughed. "No, you look fine. It's just that I don't think I've ever seen you this mellow or easygoing before. I though you were sickening for something."

Draco just grinned in return, not rising to the bait. "Nothing you say can upset me today, Pans. By the time we get back to school, Harry will have told Granger and the Weasel everything and we won't have to hide anymore. I can walk into dinner holding his hand if I want. Merlin! I could just throw him down on the Gryffindor table and ravish him in front of them."

Pansy giggled at the mental image this conjured. "I'd certainly like to see the She-Weasel's face if you did that," she admitted.

Draco nodded. "I'm almost tempted. Or I would be if I didn't think that Harry would kill me."

Pansy snorted. "As if that would stop you."

Draco just smirked in reply, before his expression softened into a warm smile. "I can't believe he's finally doing it. I was beginning to worry that he had no intention of ever telling them."

Pansy slid her arm companionably through his. "He loves you, idiot," she chided affectionately.

"He does, doesn't he." It was impossible for Draco's smile to get any brighter.

"Turn down the wattage, Draco. You're blinding me."

Draco bumped his friend's shoulder. "You're just jealous, Parkinson. I'm afraid you'll have to content yourself with that Weasley of yours, because I am officially spoken for."

"You're such a vain git," Pansy said, without any malice.

"Yep, and Harry loves me for it. Now be a good girl and come with me to Honeydukes. I want to get something for Harry."

"Sap," Pansy teased, and Draco was in such a good mood that he let it slide.

A short while later, Pansy waited patiently outside Honeydukes while Draco finished paying for, what seemed to be, their entire stock of Chocolate Frogs, and various other items. She had tried to persuade him to moderate his purchases a little, but the blond would not be swayed.

She smiled to herself as she waited. Pansy couldn't remember ever seeing Draco this happy before. After everything the blond had gone through over the last couple of years, it was good to finally see him content.

The smile froze on her face, however, when she spotted Ron and Hermione exiting a nearby shop, with no sign of Harry in tow. She cast a desperate glance over her shoulder, praying that Draco wouldn't emerge until the two of them had passed.

"Hello, Pansy."

Damn, they had spotted her. "Hello, Hermione, Ron."

The redhead mumbled something that just about passed as a greeting and Pansy couldn't help but notice that the pair of them looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Where's Harry," she enquired, sure there was a logical explanation, and hoping to find out what it was before Draco reappeared and everything went to hell.

"What? Oh, Harry? I'm not sure where he is."

Pansy watched curiously as the redhead stumbled over his words. "But I thought he had arranged to meet up with you?" she pressed.

"We were supposed to, but something came up."

Pansy opened her mouth to probe further, when the tinkle of a bell behind her warned of Draco's imminent arrival.

"Pansy, I couldn't decide which to get, so I …Granger, Weasley, what a pleasant surprise." Grey eyes narrowed and scanned the surrounding area. "Where's Harry? I thought he was supposed to be with you?"

Pansy placed a warning hand on his arm. "Hermione was just explaining that."

"Well, don't let me stop you. Please, continue."

Hermione flinched slightly at the coolness of Draco's tones. "I was just saying that something had come up."

"Come up?" Draco repeated. "It must have been very important. I know how keen he was to catch up with you two."

The two Gryffindors looked guiltily from Pansy to Draco. "I don't know. He was just busy."

'Lying', Draco thought, but he didn't voice this suspicion. "Hmm, I suppose that our Saviour does have many pressing matters to attend to. Now if you'll excuse us, we have shopping to do."

Ron and Hermione quickly said farewell and hurried off in relief. Draco, meanwhile, turned flashing eyes onto his friend.

"Now, Draco," Pansy warned. "Don't go jumping to conclusions. I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation. This is Harry we're talking about."

"You'd better hope for his sake that Voldemort has been resurrected again. Because if it's for anything less important, I'm going to kill him."

"C'mon, just calm down. How about we go back up to the castle? You can go find him and sort this misunderstanding out."

"No," Draco replied stubbornly. "I'm not going to go running around after him like some pathetic puppy. He's in the wrong here, not me. Now lets go to Glad rags - I feel the need to spend an obscene amount of money."

Pansy looked at her friend thoughtfully. Noticing that the Malfoy mask was firmly in place, she decided to let the subject drop - for now."As the afternoon wore on, Draco's mood became increasingly black. Not even making a serious dent in the Malfoy's Gringotts vault shift the dark cloud that ha d been with him since the encounter with Ron and Hermione.

Pansy had tried her best to reason with him, knowing as she did his tendency to overreact. Nothing the Slytherin girl said made an iota of difference to Draco, who was mentally running through a list of unpleasant hexes, and deciding which to use on his boyfriend first.

By the time their group had reformed and made their way back up to the school, Draco's mood was such, that even Neville was moved to speak up.

"I think you should wait to speak to Harry," he said tentatively. "He doesn't go back on his word, so I'm sure that something really important must have come up."

"You're sure, are you, Longbottom?"

Neville winced at the bite in Draco's tone, and Blaise looked warily between his friend and boyfriend.

"You don't think that he just decided not to do it, then? That maybe he decided he preferred to keep me as his dirty little secret? A bit like Blaise does with you."

"You're out of line," Blaise growled warningly.

Draco opened his mouth to reply, clearly he had more to say on this subject.

"That's enough, Draco." Pansy intervened before any further damage could be done. The Slytherin girl took hold of the blond's arm and pulled him in the direction of the dungeons.

"What the fuck, Pansy?" Draco spluttered in outrage.

"Just shut up. You'll thank me for this later, when you still have some friends left."

Draco glared fiercely at her, but allowed himself to be pulled along nonetheless.

Once they reached the Slytherin dungeons, Draco flounced off to his dormitory. He slammed the door behind him and refused to come out until it was dinner time.

* * *

Draco sat watching the Gryffindor table through narrowed, steely eyes. There was still no sign of Harry, but Granger and the Weasel were there, and something was definitely off. Two thirds of the Golden Trio were huddled closely together, deep in conversation, while shooting furtive glances between the doorway, the Slytherin table, and someone that Draco couldn't quite make out, but that was sitting further down on their own table.

The blond was already halfway through his dinner when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement in the doorway. Focussing his attention in that direction, he watched as Harry made his way into the Great Hall.

If Draco had paid close attention, he would have noticed the look of disorientation and confusion on his boyfriend's face. But all he saw was Harry's dishevelled hair and rumpled clothes, and he immediately leapt to his own conclusions. Only the distant echo of his father's voice, telling him that a Malfoy always behaved with dignity, kept him from leaping over the Gryffindor table and shaking answers out of his boyfriend.

As it was, he managed to restrain his baser impulses and he settled instead, for shooting an icy glare in his direction. Harry met this with a look of bemusement, followed by a timid smile. All he got for his efforts was a fierce Malfoy death glare.

Draco turned his attention back to his meal, knowing he would never be able to keep hold of his temper if he continued to watch Harry. He tried to make polite small talk; realising what he was doing, Pansy played along. After a couple of minutes his friend fell silent. Draco looked up and found a look of something he couldn't quite name on her face. He followed her line of vision all the way over to the Gryffindor table.

"What the fuck" he exploded, as he watched Ginny Weasley squirming up against Harry until she was almost seated in his lap. A look of outrage similar to his own, was currently marring Ron Weasley's face, while Harry's was covered in acute embarrassment.

Pansy placed a warning hand on his arm to remind him not to cause a scene, and with great difficulty, he held his seat. Helped slightly by the sight of Harry trying to extricate himself from the She-Weasel's advances.

Draco turned his attention briefly to the Hufflepuff table to see what the redhead's boyfriend was making of all this. But Wayne Hopkins was either oblivious, or simply didn't care that his girlfriend was doing a very passable impression of a Knockturn Alley whore.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Harry?"

Ginny Weasley's shrill tones carried clear across the Great Hall and snapped Draco's attention back in that direction.

"Nothing's wrong with me. I just want you to keep your hands off me." Harry's voice wasn't particularly loud, but due to Ginny's earlier outburst, the Great Hall had fallen silent. With everyone, teachers included, focussing their attention on the scene at the Gryffindor table.

With a low growl in the back of his throat, Draco began to rise from his seat. There was no way he was going to sit idly by while that Weasley trollop pawed at his boyfriend.

"You didn't mind earlier," Ginny yelled, and Draco froze midway out of his seat. Time seemed to stop for him and it felt like all the air had been sucked from his body. He put a steadying hand on the table and Pansy covered it with her own in support.

Draco was about to acknowledge his friend, but Harry was up on his feet, eyes blazing, and Draco couldn't tear his eyes away.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded. "You're crazy. I never touched you earlier; I haven't seen you all day."

Harry towered over the still-seated Ginny. His face was flushed and his anger palpable.

Ginny blanched under this response. "W-w-why are you being like this?" she sniffed.

Harry didn't respond immediately. He just glared down at the redhead. Upping the stakes, Ginny let out a stifled sob and buried her face in her hands.

Harry snorted in disgust. "And here come the tears, right on time. What the hell are you crying for?" Harry didn't intend for his words to sound quite so malicious, but a quick glimpse of the expression on Draco's face had him panicking wildly, and his anger increased tenfold.

Harry looked down at Ginny's tear streaked face and felt nothing but contempt. Draco had been right about her. Merlin! Even George had tried to warn him what a manipulative bitch she was. Not in those words exactly, but it amounted to the same thing. She was a spoilt, selfish little girl, and he had been blind to it all.

"You're pathetic," he spat, turning away in disgust.

The next thing Harry knew, there was a sickening crunch as Ron's fist connected with his nose, and he was sent sprawling to the floor.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ron screamed, his arm still tensed as if waiting for Harry to get up so he could strike again.

"Mr Weasley! That is enough!"

Professor McGonagall was on her feet and making her way down the Great Hall. All pretence of eating had been given up by the rest of the room's occupants, as they stared avidly at the unfolding drama.

None of this seemed to register with the two boys at the centre of it. They were locked in a bizarre sort of staring contest.

"You stay the hell away from my sister." Ron's voice shook with anger.

"I never touched her," Harry yelled in response.

Hermione was at Ron's side now, looking down at her friend. Harry wiped at the steady flow of blood from his nose and returned her gaze.

"Oh, Harry," she said sadly. "We saw you kissing earlier."

Harry's jaw dropped at this, and he was vaguely aware that he must look like a gaping idiot. He started at Hermione in complete disbelief that such an apparently trustworthy friend could tell such blatant lies.

Hermione lowered her eyes, not quite able to meet the acute look of betrayal in the emerald irises that stared back at her. She turned her attention to Ron instead, who was now being soundly berated by the Headmistress.

Fearful of Professor McGonagall's wrath, most students had gone back to eating their dinner. Albeit with one ear cocked in the direction of the Gryffindor table.

Harry eased himself gingerly off the floor. Every movement causing a jolt of pain to burn through his throbbing nose - which he was fairly certain was broken. As he looked up he saw that Draco and Pansy were stood, as if frozen, only a few short feet away. There was a look of complete shock on Pansy's face, and Draco's…Harry shuddered at the icy expression that twisted his boyfriend's features.

Suddenly the pain in his face paled in comparison to the twisting sensation that took hold of Harry's insides. Draco believed it. He actually though that Harry could have ever betrayed him. It felt like an iron band was tightening round his chest and Harry could barely breathe. As he took a step towards the Slytherin pair, Draco spun on his heel and swiftly exited the hall. Pansy cast a quick sorrowful glance in his direction, before hurrying out after her friend.

Harry started, as if to follow them. He had to talk to Draco, make him see the truth. But before Harry could taken even a few steps in that direction, he found himself face to face with Ginny.

The redhead bravely took a grip on his arm. "Harry, where are you going? We need to talk."

Harry looked at her blotchy face, still wet from crocodile tears, and felt nothing but revulsion. He roughly flung her hand off his arm. "Don't touch me," he spat. "Don't you ever touch me again."

Before either of them could say or do anything further, Neville stood between them, pointedly ignoring Ginny. He placed a tentative hand on his friend's arm.

"C'mon, Harry," he coaxed gently. "Let me take you up to the Hospital Wing so that we can get your face fixed."

Harry tried to smile gratefully at Neville's concern, but even this slight movement caused a stab of white hot pain.

"An excellent idea, Mr Longbottom," Professor McGonagall interjected, scrutinising Harry's face. "Madam Pomfrey will have you right in no time. Off you go, Mr Potter."

Harry nodded in acquiescence and was forced to bite his lip to prevent a cry of pain from escaping him. This did not escape his eagle-eyed Headmistress's notice, however. Turning round, the older woman found her victim.

"Mr Weasley." Her voice was crisp and dangerously calm, and Harry almost felt sorry for Ron. "My office, now. You and I need to have a little chat about the standards of behaviour befitting a Head Boy."

* * *

When Neville led him out into the Entrance Hall, Harry stopped and turned wide eyes onto his friend.

"I have to find Draco. I have to talk to him. Neville, he thinks that I …" Harry trailed off here, unable to put words to what it was that Draco believed he had done.

"I know you do," Neville replied softly. " But we have to get you healed up first. You're in no state to be going anywhere other than the Hospital Wing at the moment."

Harry looked into the sympathy-filled eyes of his friend. "I didn't do it," he whispered. "I would never. I love him too much."

"I know."

"You believe me?" Harry was shocked and immensely grateful all at the same time.

Neville looked at him thoughtfully before nodding slowly.

"But why? It's not that I'm not pleased, but no one else does."

"Because you're you. And I don't mean the Boy Who Lived, or the Saviour, or any of that crap. You're Harry. You might have a temper, and a propensity for getting into trouble, but you're loyal and honest. I've seen you with Draco and I think you would die before you would betray him."

Harry beamed in spite of the pain. "Neville, I could kiss you."

"I don't think that would be a good idea under the current circumstances," Neville replied dryly.

Harry let out a burst of laughter, followed swiftly by a gasp of pain.

"Come on. Hospital Wing, now."

* * *

Madam Pomfrey took one look at the state of Harry's face and promptly ushered him to the nearest available bed, tutting loudly as she did so.

The pain in Harry's face intensified briefly as Healing Charms were cast, re-knitting the broken bones. A thick paste was then rubbed into the tender skin under his eyes, to prevent the bruising that would certainly have accompanied his broken nose.

Not that Harry was really aware of any of this. Although his eyes were open, they were unfocussed and glazed over. Neville noticed worriedly how his friend's hands were clenched into tight fists, knuckles white with the pressure.

It took all of Harry's self control to remain seated during his treatment. Logically, he knew it had to be done, but every fibre of his being was screaming at him to go find Draco and make everything OK.

The look on his boyfriend's face as he had left the Great Hall had Harry terribly worried. It had been cold, icy cold, and anyone looking at him in that moment, would have thought themselves facing Lucius, not Draco.

Just the memory caused a shiver to run through Harry's body. Shaking his head, his eyes refocused and he turned to face Madam Pomfrey.

"Am I done?" he asked quietly.

The older lady smiled kindly and nodded. "Yes, Mr Potter, you may go. You should take things easy for tonight, to let the bones settle. Mr Longbottom, I expect you to make sure that he does."

Neville agreed weakly, knowing there wasn't a hope in hell of him preventing Harry from haring off after Draco. Sighing softly, he decided the only thing for it would be to accompany his friend into the dungeons.

Judging by the expressions on some Slytherins' faces earlier, Neville doubted that Harry would be welcomed in their midst. Slytherins may be sly and cunning, but as Neville had learned over the last few months, they were also loyal to their housemates to a degree that would shame many a Hufflepuff. In their eyes, Harry had committed a cardinal sin; he had betrayed one of their own.

"Harry, wait up." While Neville had been musing to himself, Harry was already on his feet, heading out of the Hospital Wing.

Harry paused momentarily, clearly irritated by the delay. "Just go back to the tower, Nev. I'll see you later, yeah?" He paused a moment before adding, "Thanks for believing me."

Neville shrugged. "What are friends for."

Harry laughed bitterly. "After Ron and Hermione's performances earlier, I'm not sure anymore." He then nodded in acknowledgement of his friend and continued on his way.

After a couple more feet, Harry realised the Neville was still plodding along behind him. "What are you doing?" he asked, not pausing this time.

"Coming with you," Neville replied simply.

"You don't have to."

"I know," was the only reply that Harry got, and he felt a warmth surge through his body, thawing the chill that had been in place since dinner.

If Neville believed him, then there was a chance that he could convince Draco too; all was not lost. Ron and Hermione…well, he didn't want to think about them yet. He couldn't understand why they had lied like that, and right now he didn't care; Draco was all that mattered. If he lost him, then Harry swore to himself that he would never forgive his old friends, and there were also a few darker thoughts he had about what he would do to Ron when he got hold of him.

Then, they were outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room, and the worry that had filled Harry for the last hour, now became full blown panic.

He took several deep breaths to calm himself. For some reason, he was more terrified of entering that room than he had been on that long sacrificial walk into Voldemort's camp. That night he had known what he was facing, what the outcome would be. But now, now there was no way of telling what was to come, and for once, Harry's Gryffindorish urge to rush headlong in had deserted him.

"Are you ready?"

Harry turned to look at his friend and shook his head. "No, but I'm doing it anyway. Thanks for coming with me, but you don't have to come inside. I'll take it from here."

"I'm not letting you face them all on your own," Neville said fiercely, a determined set to his jaw.

Harry quashed the urge to hug his friend and turned his attention back to the blank wall in front of him. "Veritas," he murmured, and the hidden door appeared. As he reached out for the handle, Harry couldn't help but grimace at the irony of the password.

It seemed to Neville that the entire common room came to a halt the moment they entered. Harry was oblivious to this; he was busy scanning the room for signs of Draco.

They had barely taken a few steps into the room when the angry muttering started up. Even the first years were shooting death glares at them, and Neville was beginning to question the wisdom of their venture. He was relieved then, when he spotted his boyfriend. Blaise was sat on a sofa by the fire, with Pansy at this side. Spotting the two Gryffindors, he was on his feet in seconds, striding over to them.

"You shouldn't be here, Potter. You're not exactly welcome anymore."

"Where is he, Blaise? I need to talk to him."

Blaise took a step closer to Harry. "Don't you think you have done enough damage for one day?" he growled, a dangerous expression on his face.

Neville was torn between the urge to protect his friend, and the arousal that his boyfriend's forceful behaviour was creating.

Harry reached out to push Blaise aside. "I don't have time for this," he snarled. Before he could get past, the Slytherin boy grabbed hold of his arm and was glaring at him in anger.

"Let go of him, Blaise."

The Italian boy turned to his boyfriend in disbelief. "How can you defend him?" he snapped. "You were there, you heard what he's done."

"He says it's not true, and I believe him." Neville refused to be cowed by the intensity of his boyfriend's gaze.

"He's in the dormitory."

All three boys turned in the direction of this soft voice.

"Pansy!" Blaise cried in vexation.

"Let him go." Pansy reached out and loosened Blaise's grip on Harry's arm.

Harry looked intently into the Slytherin girl's face. She didn't seem angry. Her skin was blotchy and she seemed to have been crying at some point. She looked at Harry sadly and he reached out and took hold of her hand.

"I didn't do it," he whispered.

Blaise snorted disbelievingly at this, but Pansy just smiled weakly. "I want to believe you, it's just…"

Harry nodded. "It's OK." He let his hand fall from hers. "I have to see Draco."

Pansy stepped to one side and smiled again. "Good luck."

Harry moved to Draco's room. It seemed like it took an eternity for him to walk the corridor to the dorms, and yet he was there far too quickly. He had no idea of what to expect on the other side of that door. If Blaise's reaction was anything to go on, he could expect to face anger and hostility. Harry just hoped that Draco would give him a chance to tell his side before hexing him into oblivion.

Deciding against knocking, Harry reached out and pushed the door open. He was relieved when it opened easily; he had been expecting extensive Locking Charms and Wards. But he supposed that most sensible people knew better than to disturb the blond Slytherin when he was in a temper.

Draco was sat on the edge of his bed, facing the door, his head buried in his hands.

"I was wondering when you would show up." He looked up as he spoke and Harry desperately searched his face for some trace of emotion, something to show how Draco was feeling - but there was nothing. The blond's beautiful face was covered by a calm, expressionless mask.

"Draco, you have to listen to me," Harry pleaded.

"I don't have to do anything you tell me, Potter." Draco was on his feet now and he closed the gap between them.

"I swear it's not true. I didn't do anything."

"Oh, you did plenty," Draco replied bitterly. "Don't make things worse by lying to me."

"But-"

"No! I don't want to hear anything you have to say, Potter." Harry couldn't help but shiver at the cold use of his surname.

"Draco, I swear I never touched her." Harry was frantic now.

"So they're all lying, are they?" Draco asked smoothly. "The two Weasels and Granger?"

"They must be, because it's not true." But even to Harry's own mind, the idea of Hermione lying seemed incongruous at best. Instinctively, Harry reached out to touch Draco. He just knew that if he could hold the blond, remind him of everything they shared, then everything would be OK.

Draco, however, had other ideas. He slapped Harry's hand away before it could make contact. "Don't touch me," he snapped icily. "You think I want your hands on me now that I know where they have been? After they've been touching that blood-traitor whore?"

"I didn't do it," Harry yelled, his temper finally flaring.

"Get out. You have nothing to say that I want to hear."

Harry stepped closer to Draco, a determined look on his face. The blond had his wand out and pointed it at the Gryffindor. "Stay away from me."

"Are you going to curse me then?" Harry asked softly.

"If I have to," Draco replied calmly, but Harry didn't miss the tiny shake of his wand hand. Reaching out, Harry clasped his hand round Draco's wrist and lowered his arm.

"I love you," he said quietly.

Like lightening, Draco's fist crashed into his face. "Just stop it!" the blond shouted, all pretence of calm gone. "Stop lying to me."

Harry looked at his boyfriend, one eye already showing signs of swelling. "I've never lied to you."

"You've been lying to your friends for months. Why should I be any different?"

"Because I love you."

"I told you to stop saying that." Draco's tone was becoming steadily more distressed.

"But it's true," Harry replied, far more calmly than he felt.

This time the blow caught him on the mouth, splitting his lip in the process. Harry gingerly ran his tongue round to check for broken teeth, fortunately there were none.

Refusing to be cowed, Harry stepped closer still. "Just let me explain, please?"

Their bodies were so close now that Draco didn't have room to swing anymore. So he did the only thing he could think of - he shoved Harry, hard.

Caught off guard, Harry went sprawling onto the floor, the wind knocked out of him. Draco looked down at him in disdain.

"Just get over it, Potter. You were only ever a way for me to pass the time. Just a convenient fuck."

The words hurt Harry far more than any of the blows he had received. He tried to convince himself that Draco didn't mean it. That he was just lashing out because he was hurt.

"Don't say things like that," he pleaded. "You don't mean them." Harry began pushing himself up off the floor, but Draco kicked his arms out from under him, sending him crashing back down.

"You weren't a bad fuck, I suppose. But not so good that you're worth this trouble. It's a shame it has to end, but it's not like there was any future in it."

The words were like knives into Harry's already wounded soul. Draco was so calm now, so emotionless, that Harry began to dread that it was the truth.

"B-B-But-"

"But what, Potter?"

"I love you." No sooner had the words left his mouth, than Harry realised it had been the wrong thing to say. A sharp kick to Harry's torso left him gasping for breath.

"I told you to stop saying that. Are you deaf as well as a liar?"

Unable to respond, Harry curled around himself, in a foetal-like position. Without pause, Draco stormed out of the room, apparently oblivious to the tears of pain and misery that trickled down his boyfriend's face.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure how long he had lain there, wallowing in his heartbreak; it seemed like hours. Eventually Neville had come to find him, and with a discretion that Harry had come to value greatly, he made no mention of his bloodshot eyes or tear-stained face. He merely helped Harry to his feet and cast a quick Cleaning Charm, to preserve what little was left of his dignity. Neville then escorted Harry out of the dungeons, an expression on his face that dared anyone to comment.

Apart from Neville's suggestion that he take Harry back to the Hospital Wing, which Harry had declined, the rest of the journey was spent in silence. Harry was immensely grateful for this. He had only a fragile grip on his self control and he knew that if Neville pressed him to talk about what had happened, well, he would have fallen apart.

The cruel words that Draco had spoken were like sharp barbs against his soul. With all his heart, Harry wanted, and needed to believe that it wasn't the truth, that Draco was just saying that to hurt him the way he felt hurt. Surely no one was that good an actor?

But, as Harry bitterly reflected, the bad things were always easier to believe.

As they neared the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry hesitated uncertainly.

"I don't think I can…"

"It's alright, Harry," Neville soothed. "We'll just go straight up to the dormitory. We won't stop to talk or anything."

Neville already had the portrait hole open before he had finished speaking, and Harry found he was left with very little choice but to follow his friend.

Harry kept his head down and just made straight for the stairs, praying no one would see him. Unfortunately for him, both the Weasleys, and Hermione, were in the room, along with a scattering of other students.

Ron was on his feet in an instant, clearly intent on picking things up where he had left off earlier. Neville stepped in front of him. "Leave it, Ron. Harry's had all he can handle for one day."

Ron looked closely at his old friend, taking in the steadily swelling eye and the cut lip. "Who did that?"

"Malfoy," Neville replied briefly, before turning and gently pushing Harry in the direction of the staircase.

Ron let out a bark of laughter. "Never thought I'd agree with that prat."

Harry didn't trust himself to speak for fear that his temper would explode. He had lost the most important person in his life, and sitting in front of him were the people he held responsible. He would have to talk to them eventually, to find out why, but not now - it was too soon. The pain was too raw and he wanted to be alone with his grief.

Both Ron and Hermione seemed to sense some of this and they wisely said nothing further. Ginny, on the other hand, had no such considerations. She attempted to follow Harry up to his dormitory. Neville sent the other boy on ahead and then turned to face the redhead.

"I have to talk to him," she said, trying to get past him. "We need to sort things out."

"There's nothing for you to sort out," Neville answered calmly.

Colour flooded Ginny's face. "You don't know what you're talking about," she snapped.

"I know that you weren't with Harry earlier."

"Don't be silly, Neville." Her voice rose at this. "Ron and Hermione saw us."

"I don't care what they think they saw," Neville said stubbornly. "I know Harry, and I know that he wouldn't have done that."

"Why? Because he's so loyal to that Slytherin whore of his?"

Neville was forced to remind himself that this was a girl he was dealing with, and however much she might deserve it, he could not hit Ginny.

"I wondered how long you would keep the act up," he answered coolly.

If it was possible, Ginny flushed an even brighter red. "You can't keep me away from him forever."

"I don't have to. He doesn't want you."

"Oh, just fuck off," Ginny spat, turning away from him. "You always were a loser, Neville," she shot over her shoulder as she flounced in the direction of her bedroom.

"How can you say that you believe him, Neville?" Hermione spoke softly, but Neville turned a defiant glare on her.

"Because I know Harry, and he said it's not true."

"But we saw him," Hermione explained slowly as if talking to a small child.

Neville just shrugged. "You've lived in a world of magic for long enough to know that not everything is as it seems."

"So it was what? An illusion?"

Neville sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. But I know it wasn't Harry." With that he turned and climbed the stairs in search of his friend.


	52. Private Misery

Harry made his way up to the dormitory, trying his best to ignore the sounds of Ginny and Neville's conversation as it floated up the stairs after him. Seamus and Dean were already in the room, and Harry tried not to care that the conversation died the instant he entered the room. Even after years of having every aspect of his life under intense scrutiny, he never quite got used to it. But what annoyed him more were the pitying looks that his friends sent in his direction.

The last thing he wanted right now was to be around people. Harry just wanted to slink away into some dark corner and lick his wounds in peace. He murmured something that could have passed as a greeting to his dorm mates and then headed into the bathroom. As the door closed behind him, Harry cast several strong Locking Charms; he didn't think his friends would intrude, but he didn't want to leave it to chance.

Turning on the nearest shower, Harry slowly removed his clothing and he waited for the water to heat up. As he took in his reflection in the mirror, Harry was startled by his appearance. The stark light in the bathroom made his skin appear almost 'white'. The already purpling flesh around his eye and lip further juxtaposed this pallor. His eyes had reverted back to their old deadened expression.

Harry stepped into the shower, but despite the hot water soothing his aching body, he still felt cold. Draco's words were echoing in his ears. Guilt was a familiar emotion, and even though he knew deep down that he was not to blame on this occasion, old habits were hard to break, and that well-known sense of self-loathing settled over him.

Harry leant his forearm against the tiled wall and leant his aching head onto it, allowing the water to course over his body. His eyes closed, all he could see was Draco's face as it twisted in anger and hatred. It was an expression Harry had seen many times over the years, but seeing it directed at him now, after all that they had shared, was like a knife to the gut.

His breath came in short shallow gulps and Harry could feel a sense of panic rushing through his veins, as tears burst from him like a storm. He slid down the wall until he was huddled on the base of the shower.

In his distress, Harry barely noticed when he began to scratch at his arms, his fingernails leaving angry red tracks in their wake. The sound of a gentle knock on the door brought him back to his senses; he looked down at the marred flesh, speckled with tiny spots of blood, and turned his head away in disgust.

"Harry." Neville's voice was so soft that it was barely audible through the door. When there was no reply, he tried again. "Harry."

"I'm OK, Nev," he lied, climbing slowly to his feet.

"I've sent Seamus and Dean down into the common room for a bit, so you can come out if you want."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "I'll be out in a minute." He grabbed his towel and began to dry himself, carefully avoiding his newly damaged skin. He didn't want to go out there, because if he did, he would be forced to acknowledge that it was all real, that he had really lost Draco, and he just didn't think he would be able to handle that.

After pulling on his pyjamas and roughly towelling his hair, Harry reluctantly took down the Locking Charm on the door and slowly opened it. He entered the bedroom and was relieved to see that Neville had spoken the truth; Seamus and Dean were nowhere to be seen, and for that, he was infinitely grateful.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to have to put on a brave face in front of his friends. All he really wanted to do was crawl into bed, draw the hangings around himself, and brood on how his life had so suddenly fallen apart.

Not fallen, he corrected himself. Fallen implied it was accidental. It had been deliberately torn apart by the very people he had once trusted with it.

Neville perched on the edge of his bed and watched as Harry emerged from the bathroom. He noted, with a sinking feeling, that the deadened look had returned to his friend's eyes. There was such an air of defeat around him, that Neville rather thought he would like to hit the people responsible for it. Starting in Gryffindor tower, and finishing up in the Slytherin dungeons.

As the only one of Harry's friends to see him really interact with Draco on a daily basis, Neville had managed to get over his previous dislike of the Slytherin simply by watching the smile he put on his friend's face. It was an expression that had been all too absent ever since the events of the Tri-Wizard tournament.

Anyone who could put that look of unadulterated happiness on Harry's face was alright in Neville's book. And now it was gone. Only to be replaced with one that was heartbreaking in its blatant misery.

Neville didn't say anything as Harry readied himself for bed. He had learnt over the years that the other boy hated to feel pitied, so he sat back quietly and waited. Ready to offer whatever was needed.

Harry sank to his bed with a soft sigh and ran his hands through his still-damp hair.

"I'm OK," he said, not very convincingly.

Neville's expression apparently showed his disbelief, as Harry cracked the tiniest of smiles - starting and ending with his mouth.

"Alright, so I'm not OK," he admitted with a small shrug. "But it's not like there's anything I can do about it."

"D'you want to talk? I'm not that bad a listener?"

Harry shook his head emphatically. "No. I don't think I could hold it together. What I'd really like to do is crawl into bed, fall asleep, and then wake up to find that this is all some fucked up kind of nightmare." He cradled his head in his hands briefly, steadying his emotions. "But it's not, is it?"

The faint plea in his tone wrung Neville's heart. "No, it's not," he agreed reluctantly.

Raising his head to meet his friend's gaze, there was a flash of anger on Harry's face.

"How could they do that? Just lie to my face? I know we have drifted apart this year, but they must really hate me."

"I don't think they were, Harry. Lying, that is."

Green eyes narrowed at this. "You said you believed me."

"I do," Neville reassured hastily. "It's just; I find it really hard to believe that Hermione would lie about something like this."

"We can't both be telling the truth."

"I don't know. Maybe they just think that's what they saw. Like they didn't get a good look, and it was only someone who looked like you."

Harry shook his head sadly. "That doesn't explain Ginny, though."

"Well, no," Neville admitted. "But I don't have quite as much difficulty in believing her capable of lying. Not considering her behaviour last term."

Harry just shrugged again. "I don't know. It just doesn't make sense. What would she have to gain by saying it? I still know it's not true, whatever anyone else thinks."

Neville thought for a moment. "She thinks you're dating Pansy, right?"

"Um, I guess so. I mean, I've never actually told anyone that I was, but they all just assumed."

"Well, Ginny made it quite clear how she felt about that. Maybe she realised she couldn't scare Pansy off, so she found another way to split you up."

"But how would that benefit her? She has to know that by doing that, it would just turn me against her even more."

Neville thought again for a moment. "Maybe she's just decided that if she can't have you, then no one else will."

Harry massaged his temples lightly; he could feel a headache coming on. "I don't know, Nev. Hermione was always the one who solved the puzzles. I'm no good at working stuff like this out." He pulled the duvet back and slid underneath, propping himself up against the headboard.

"Where were you all day?" Neville blurted out suddenly. Harry raised an eyebrow at this and his friend flushed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that how it sounded. I just thought that wherever you were, someone was bound to have seen you. Then you have an alibi, and we can prove Ginny is lying."

"I was asleep," Harry admitted shamefacedly.

"What, all day?" Neville asked incredulously.

"I didn't get much sleep last night, so I took a nap after breakfast."

"That was some nap!"

"I guess I was really tired. In fact, I'm still kind of knackered now. I think I'm just gonna go to bed, if you don't mind?"

Neville had enough sense to recognise a dismissal when he heard one, and he had no intention of pressing the matter further. "OK". He smiled. "I'll try and keep the other two out of here long enough to let you fall asleep."

Harry smiled his thanks, but inwardly he doubted that there was any point. He just knew that sleep would be a long time coming that night.

* * *

Despite Neville's best entreaties, Harry could not be persuaded to join his friend at breakfast the next day. Neville reluctantly left him to his private misery and headed down to the Great Hall alone.

Deep in thought, he made his way over to the Gryffindor table. It was only after he had sat down, and saw who his companions were, that he realised his mistake.

Hermione smiled at him tentatively, while Ron just settled for glaring fiercely. After Harry had gone to bed the night before, Neville had returned to the common room and had been instantly embroiled in a heated discussion with the redhead. Neville had tried to stay calm, and had, in the end, been forced to walk away.

Ginny, simply leaned over the table and placed her hand on Neville's arm. "Where's Harry? Is he OK?"

Neville restrained the urge to tell her that it was none of her damn business. Instead, he slid his arm from her grasp and returned her gaze coolly. "In bed," was his terse reply.

"Maybe I should go up and talk to him."

It was more of a statement that a question and it was all Neville could do not to roll his eyes. She was certainly persistent, he would give her that. It was only when Ginny rose from her seat that he spoke. "Leave him alone. He doesn't want to talk to you."

"I'd rather hear that from him."

She looked so smug that Neville's hand itched to slap her. "I think Harry made his feelings very clear to you last night."

Ginny opened her mouth to dispute this, but a hand on her arm pulled her back into her seat.

"Sit down, Ginny." Hermione's tone was a little sharp and Neville looked at her curiously.

"But I-"

"You can't force him to talk to you if he doesn't want to." Her tone was a little softer and it apparently soothed Ginny's ruffled feathers.

"You're right," she nodded. "He probably just needs some time alone to think."

Ron snorted. "Thinking, my arse. He's just too much of a coward to come out and face us."

Neville regarded Ron coolly and quirked an eyebrow at him. It was an expression that was pure Slytherin and it caused the redhead to squirm uncomfortable. Neville couldn't help but reflect on the usefulness of a Slytherin boyfriend.

Despite his discomfort, Ron had no intention of backing down. "If he's done nothing wrong, I don't see why he won't come out of his room."

"Why should he? So you can all gang up on him again? Or perhaps you'd like to throw another punch at him?" Neville's voice was dripping with a sarcasm that stopped his three fellow Gryffindor's in their tracks.

"Neville," Hermione began.

The boy in question merely shook his head and got up from his seat. "We are not talking about this anymore."

"Where are you going?" Warm brown eyes looked up at him, filled with concern.

"I've lost my appetite," Neville flung at them, before turning and making his way out of the Great Hall.

* * *

Draco studiously avoided looking over at the Gryffindor table during breakfast. He didn't even look up from his plate to meet the sympathetic gazes that those, brave enough among his housemates, were sending him.

It took all of his energy and concentration to maintain his cold Malfoy façade, and to keep his breakfast down.

A casual observer would have noted very little difference between this Draco Malfoy, and the one who had occupied this space for the last six years. However, those who knew the blond better, noted the faint shadows under his eyes, and the almost sickly pallor of his skin, both of which told of a restless night with very little sleep.

Those of an even more intimate acquaintance with the Slytherin, would have been able to point to the slight furrows on his brow which told of his inner battle for self-control.

Pansy noted all of these signs with concern, and it was with great restraint that she managed to hold her tongue. She was wise enough to know that Draco would not thank anyone who dared to suggest that his appearance of self-possession was anything other than genuine. For all that Draco liked to play the cold and haughty Malfoy, Pansy knew just how tenuous her friend's grip on his self-control was, and despite her concern, she could not bring herself to call him on it.

She would have to wait for him to come to her. It would be a few days before he would do so willingly, but Pansy knew from experience that he invariably would.

Unlike Draco, Pansy's eyes flitted constantly in the direction of the Gryffindor table. At one point her gaze locked with that of Ginny Weasley, and the Slytherin girl was momentarily confused by the outright smugness of the redhead's expression.

It took Millicent Bulstrode, of all people, to remind Pansy that, as far as most of the school knew, it was her that Harry had cheated on - Ginny included. Pansy felt, rather than saw, Draco tense up at the mention of Harry's name. Millicent too, realised her mistake just seconds too late, and after a nervous look in Draco's direction, she turned back to her breakfast.

Pansy's gaze shifted towards the entrance to the Great Hall, and she watched hopefully, waiting to see if Harry would appear. She quashed the feeling of disloyalty that rose within her when she thought of how hurt Draco had been. She couldn't help but feel concerned for Harry; he had been in such a pitiful state the night before, and having heard at least part of Draco's words to him, Pansy could well understand why.

What worried her was the thought that, in his distress, Harry would fall back into old, bad habits in an effort to cope. She knew exactly what her first impulse would have been had she been in his situation, and she just prayed, to whatever God was listening, that Harry had more strength.

When Neville Longbottom entered the Great Hall, late, and lost in thought, Pansy knew that Harry wasn't coming.

She watched, with interest, the interaction between Neville and his friends, and was surprised to see the obvious anger on the usually-placid Gryffindor's face. When Neville left the Hall, Pansy saw her chance. Gulping down the last of her pumpkin juice, she made her excuses and hot-footed it after the disappearing boy, completely oblivious to the narrowed grey eyes that followed her exit.

Neville had already begun the climb back up to Gryffindor tower, when he heard hurrying footsteps behind him.

"Neville!" Pansy called, slightly out of breath. "Wait a minute."

Neville came to a halt and waited patiently for the Slytherin girl to catch up to him. "Pansy," he acknowledged. "What can I do for you?" There was some residual coolness in his voice from his earlier conversation, but if Pansy noticed, she chose not to acknowledge it.

"I just wanted to ask how Harry was?"

"What do you care?" Neville bit, and instantly regretted it when he saw the flash of hurt on the girl's face. "Sorry," he said a little sheepishly. "But if you'd seen how upset Harry was, you would understand why I'm not big on Slytherins right now."

"That's hardly fair. Draco's hurt too, and he didn't do anything wrong."

"Except attack his boyfriend and break his heart, you mean?"

Pansy opened her mouth to retort, but stopped herself and snapped it shut for a moment. She looked thoughtfully at Neville before speaking again.

"I don't want to fall out with you about this; that's not why I'm here. Harry's my friend too, and I'm concerned about him. He was in a bit of a state last night, and he wasn't at breakfast, and …well, I'm just worried, I guess."

Neville felt his anger melt in the face of this sincerity. "He's as well as can be expected, I suppose. You know Harry, not big on sharing his problems."

"Where is he now?"

"Still in bed, and planning to stay there for the rest of the day as far as I can tell. I spoke to him briefly before I came down. He looks like shit. I don't think he slept at all last night."

Pansy frowned in concern. "But does he seem OK…you know…mentally?"

"I don't think he's going to try and top himself, if that's what you're asking," Neville replied, smiling despite himself. But he didn't miss the faint shudder that ran through the Slytherin girl at his words, and his smile faded quickly.

"Pansy," he began carefully. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Honestly? Yes, there is. But it's not my place to tell. Just look after him, yeah?"

Without waiting for a reply, Pansy turned on her heel and bolted back down the stairs.

* * *

Mindful of Pansy's words, Neville kept a close eye on Harry for the remainder of the day. Not that it was particularly difficult, as Harry showed no signs of moving out of the dormitory. By lunchtime he had gone as far as to get dressed, but no amount of coaxing could persuade him to leave the room.

"I'm fine," Harry said in a tone that revealed his exasperation with the other boy's continued presence. "I'm just not that hungry."

"You said that at breakfast," Neville objected.

"And I'm saying it again now." Harry sighed softly and looked at his friend, forcing a weak smile onto his face. "I appreciate the concern, Nev. Really, I do. But there's no need; I'm fine."

"So you said. Doesn't change the fact that you look like shit though."

Harry chuckled bitterly at this. "Thanks for the compliment. You certainly know how to kick someone when they're down."

"You know I didn't mean it like that. But you look like you didn't sleep last night, you won't eat, and being cooped up in this room all day isn't helping."

"I've got this essay to write for tomorrow." Harry indicated the scatter of parchment on his bed with a wave of his hand.

"Well, come to the library then, and I'll help you."

"It's Potions, Nev."

"Oh, OK, so maybe I won't help. But come anyway. It's got to be better that brooding in here."

Harry shut his text book with a loud snap, and when he spoke again, Neville could hear the struggle for control behind the words.

"You know, It's funny. You would think that with the amount of times its happened before, that I would be used to having everyone talk about me, dissecting my life." He paused here and looked up. "But it doesn't. I know I'll have to face them all tomorrow, but can't I have just one day where I'm not being gawped at like the newest freak show in town?"

Neville just nodded; what else could he say to that?

"I'm really not that hungry, but if it'll make you feel better, I'll call Kreacher and have him bring me up a sandwich or something."

Neville nodded in satisfaction at this compromise. "Yes, it would," he agreed, sitting down on the nearest bed, clearly intent on waiting till Harry had made good on his word.

Realising this, Harry huffed in annoyance, but called the wizened old elf all the same.

They had much the same conversation later that day when Harry pointedly refused to go down for dinner. Yet again, Neville waited while a house-elf was summoned to bring food to the brooding boy.

Not that Harry ate either of the meals that Kreacher brought for him. He simply waited until both the elf, and his friend, had left the room and then vanished the offending food.

The very thought of food made Harry feel sick, and he just knew that anything he managed to eat, would not stay down for long.

Harry spent the evening in much the same way as he had passed the rest of the day. Lying on his bed, hangings drawn, eyes fixed to the picture of him and Draco that had been taken of them at Christmas. He seemed to find some sort of grim satisfaction from torturing himself with the image of happier times.

His roommates stayed away for the most part, and Harry wasn't sure if this was Neville's doing, or simply that Dean and Seamus felt uncomfortable around him.

The Irish boy had been up at one point, helpfully offering Harry some of his private stash of Firewhisky. He had been sorely tempted to take Seamus up on his offer; anything for a few hours of blissful oblivion. But the thought of facing everyone the next day was worrying enough; Harry knew there was no way he could manage it with a hangover to boot.

He declined Seamus' well meant offer. The Irish boy only grinned and tucked the bottle in Harry's bedside cabinet. "Just in case you change your mind," he had explained.

For the second night in a row, sleep proved elusive to Harry. When he finally did manage to nod off at around 3am, it was only to wake an hour or so later, shaking and sweating from a vivid and terrifying nightmare.

He cast a quick "Lumos" and glanced at his watch; it was almost 5am. Knowing that any further attempt at sleep would be futile, Harry dragged himself out of bed and made his way into the bathroom.

A long, warm shower did nothing to improve Harry's mood. His insides felt like they were busy twisting themselves into knots every time he thought about the prospect of facing Draco later that day.

If he thought there was a chance he could get away with it, then Harry would have stayed in his room all day again. It wasn't so much that he was afraid of facing people, it was just that seeing Draco, and not being with him, would only serve as a confirmation that it was really over. And Harry wasn't sure if he was ready to deal with that yet.

In the few short months that they had been together, Draco had come to mean more to Harry than anyone else in his life, ever. The sense of loss he was feeling since their break-up left Harry feeling bereft in a way that only Sirius' death had made him feel before.

That was as close as he could come to describing what he was feeling. It was like he was grieving. Only in a weird way it was worse. If Draco had died, Harry knew he would have been heart broken and would have grieved terribly. But eventually he would have come to terms with it; it was inevitable. But this way, he lost Draco in almost every sense, apart from the bit where he had to face him every day. Where he had to see those eyes, once filled with such affection, spitting venom at him across the classroom. Where he had to face a constant reminder of what he once had, but had lost, through no fault of his own.

And that was the real kicker - he had done nothing wrong. Harry knew he should be mad at Draco for not believing him, not giving him a chance to tell his side of the story. He should rant and rave at Ron and Ginny, give them hell for destroying his one chance at happiness.

But somehow he just couldn't muster the energy. A hopeless sense of lethargy had descended on him and Harry didn't want, or couldn't be bothered, to fight it.


	53. Do You Believe Him?

**Author Note: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. Sorry I haven't had time to reply to all of you individually. This chapter is still a bit angsty, but I can promise you all that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Things will start to turn around for Harry and Draco in the next couple of chapters, so hang on in there.**

* * *

Draco scowled as he took in the image in the mirror. He had been horrified to find that the sickly looking creature reflected there, was in fact, him.

Draco looked like crap; there was no other word for it. He ducked his head and splashed cold water over his face. But after rechecking his reflection, he found it had made very little difference, apart from the fact that he was now wet.

There was a soft tap on the bathroom door, and before he could raise an objection at the interruption, the door opened and Pansy slid inside.

"I might have known I'd find you in front of a mirror," she teased.

Draco smiled weakly in return.

"I sent the others off to breakfast," she continued, walking closer as she spoke.

"Sorry. I didn't realise it was that late."

Pansy shrugged. "It's OK. You know Blaise and his stomach. I swear he was looking at the first years as if they were big hams."

Pansy hopped up onto the vanity unit at the side of the sink. She reached out her hands and began to straighten his tie.

"Draco," she began.

"Don't, Pansy. Please."

Pansy's heart ached at the pain and hurt that she could see swimming in her friend's eyes. But she pressed on regardless.

"Just let me say one thing, and then I'll shut up. Promise."

Without waiting for approval, Pansy plunged headlong into her speech. "I know that I can't begin to understand how you're feeling right now, and I won't lie to you that everything will be OK. But…Just don't bury it, please? It's probably too soon, and I know you think it's a sign of weakness, but you need to talk about it to someone. You'll only hurt yourself if you let it fester."

She slid off the counter top and brushed a stray lock of blond hair behind his ear. "I'm not saying you have to talk to me. But just so you know, if you want to talk, I'm here. No opinions, no judgements, just to listen."

Draco leant in and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. "Thanks. I'll bear it in mind."

Then, turning back to face his reflection, Draco groaned. "I can't go out there looking like this. I look like I haven't slept in days."

Pansy refrained from pointing out that this was because he hadn't. She simply brandished her wand with a devilish gleam in her eye. "That, Drakie, is why you have me."

* * *

When Harry voiced the idea of not going down to breakfast on Monday morning, Neville was quick to put his foot down. He pointed out that Harry was only prolonging the inevitable, and that he may as well just get it over with.

Harry caved in the face of his friend's persistence, and thought longingly of the days when Neville had been scared of his own shadow.

Harry lingered as long as he dared in the bathroom, hoping that the other boy would simply get fed up of waiting. A quick look at his reflection showed that, although the swelling around his lip and eye had gone down, the bruises were still a rather vivid shade of purple. He toyed with the idea of casting a Glamour, but he had left his wand in the bedroom, and Harry knew that fetching it would just bring on another of Neville's strictures on how he had done nothing to be ashamed of.

Re-entering the bedroom, Harry was surprised to see that not only had Neville waited for him, but that Dean and Seamus were still there also. Seeing the stunned look on his face, the other three boys simply grinned.

"W-What are you still doing here?" Harry managed to say at last.

"You didn't think we'd let you face the vultures by yourself, did you?" Dean stood up and walked over to Harry, clapping him on the shoulder. "Anyone tries to have a go at you, they'll have to get past us first."

"Yeah," Seamus piped up. "Think of us as your bodyguards, if you will." The Irish boy folded his arms across his chest and struck, what he obviously thought was, a menacing pose.

"Yes," Dean sniggered. "Anyone comes close and Seamus will just start humping them. That ought to be enough to put even the most determined person off."

Even Harry managed to raise a weak smile at this good-natured teasing. Despite the dread that filled him at the thought of leaving his sanctuary, the obvious support of his friends caused warmth to spread through his chest, dulling the icy grip of panic. He turned to face Neville, who was stood waiting by the door.

Neville just shrugged helplessly. "Don't look at me," he said. "It was all their idea. I have no control over them."

Harry managed his first real smile in days. "Thanks, guys."

As Harry and his new-found entourage made their way down towards the Great Hall, they found that Luna was stood by the large wooden doors, waiting for them. As she clasped hands with her boyfriend, her face still held its usual dreamlike expression. She gazed at Harry with wide eyes and smiled gently.

"I thought I'd offer my support," she said.

Harry found himself waiting for her to follow this up with some outrageous remark about saving him from Nargles, but none came. "Thank you," he replied softly, before turning, nervously, to face the entrance.

Harry felt the eyes of the school turn on him as he entered the room. But his friends ranged themselves around him, protecting him from the intense scrutiny. He found himself ushered to the Gryffindor table where, once again, they arranged themselves so that they buffered him from his other housemates.

As grateful as he was for his friends' blatant support, Harry couldn't quite bring himself to join in their happy banter, however much they tried to draw him in. Instead, he concentrated on filling his plate with food, and steadfastly ignoring the intense glares that he could feel burning into him from all sides of the Hall.

The only pair of eyes that he wanted to be watching him were determinedly looking anywhere but in his direction.

Harry couldn't help but watch Draco. He peeked over at the other boy through his thick lashes, hoping desperately for some sign of recognition. Even a glare would have been better than watching his boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, he corrected himself, chatting and laughing with his housemates, as if he had not a care in the world.

Only Pansy seemed to be aware of Harry's longing gaze. The dark-haired girl looked up and gave a small, sympathetic smile in his direction, and Harry felt slightly relieved that not everyone in Slytherin house hated him.

He wasn't the only one to notice Pansy gesture of support, though. Harry watched as Draco firmly set his goblet down and turned to face his friend. Harry was too far away to hear what was said, but the laughter had gone from those beloved eyes as they narrowed into a fierce glare. Few words were said, but from Pansy's expression, he could tell that they had not been pleasant.

* * *

Pansy held her tongue as Draco berated her forcefully. As a fiercely independent girl, there was no way that anyone, not even her best friend, was going to tell her whom she could, or could not acknowledge.

However, she let it go on this occasion, understanding that Draco's feelings about Harry were still very raw and he was just lashing out blindly. She just nodded and smiled sweetly, before continuing with her breakfast. She couldn't resist a tiny smirk at the baffled look on her friend's face when she didn't argue back.

Pansy caught Blaise's eye and the Italian boy gave a nod of approval for her tactics. They had both known Draco nearly their entire lives. It was a friendship that was fraught with potential minefields where the volatile blond was concerned. Both Pansy and Blaise had, out of necessity, learned very early on how to handle their friend carefully.

The trouble was that Pansy now considered Harry to be a friend, and a very good one at that. There were things she had shared with him that even Draco didn't know. In the few short months of their friendship, she had come to value him as much as she did her oldest friends.

With Harry, there was never any hidden agenda, or ulterior motive; what you saw, was what you got. And that was why this current situation didn't sit right with her. Not just because she knew how straightforward and honest Harry was, but because she had seen for herself how totally smitten with Draco he was.

Pansy wanted to believe Harry, and for the most part, she did. The only tiny doubt she had was the memory of Hermione's words 'we saw you'. Pansy had no trouble accepting that Ginny Weasley was a bare-faced liar, and even her brother, given the right circumstances, could probably be persuaded to back up a falsehood. But Hermione was an entirely different case altogether. Try as she might, Pansy could not get her head around the idea that the Head Girl was lying.

The trouble, then, was that one of them had to be. Hermione and Harry couldn't both be telling the truth, could they? Pansy wasn't sure, but, as she observed the unhappy expressions on the faces of two of her closest friends, she decided that she was damn well going to find out.

* * *

Despite outward appearances, Draco was dreading the forthcoming Potions lesson with the same intensity as Harry. The last thing he wanted was to be forced to acknowledge the other boy's presence in any way, shape, or form.

Only the burning of his anger had allowed him to come out of their last confrontation with his self-respect intact. He doubted that even his icy Malfoy façade would survive another such encounter.

Draco was still angry at Harry, but more than anything, he was angry with himself. Because, try as he might, he could not bring himself to hate his ex-boyfriend. He was beginning to realise that love was not something you could turn off as required, and for that, he cursed his weakness for allowing himself to become so emotionally attached to another person.

So it was with much apprehension that Draco entered the Potions classroom for his first lesson with the Gryffindor since their fight. The first thing he noticed was that Harry had moved to a seat at the front of the class. He had seated himself next to Ernie Macmillan, the lone Hufflepuff amongst all the other houses.

Draco's instinctive emotion was relief. Relief that Harry hadn't assumed his usual spot next to Pansy. The next feeling he had was a faint flicker of guilt as he noticed the bruises that he had inflicted in his anger. Lastly, and most surprisingly to Draco, was a wave of jealousy as he watched the fair-haired boy eyeing Harry speculatively.

Draco shook his head. 'Stop it,' he instructed himself silently. 'Don't look at him; he betrayed you.' He made his way over to his seat next Blaise and sat down, trying his best to ignore the yawning empty next to Pansy.

* * *

If Harry had thought that seeing Draco breakfast was difficult, he was finding it infinitely more difficult to sit just a few short feet away from him during Potions.

He had forsaken his usual spot amidst the Slytherins, for both his and Pansy's sakes. His initial thought had been to sit there anyway, to force Draco to acknowledge him in some way. But after what had happened at breakfast, Harry didn't want to put the Slytherin girl in such an awkward position

Also, Harry wasn't really sure that he wanted to provoke Draco. The last thing he needed was a replay of that ugly scene that had taken place in the dungeons only a few nights ago.

Harry tried his best to concentrate on Professor Slughorn's lecture on Blood Replenishing Potions, but his heart really wasn't in it. Plus, it was especially difficult to focus when he could feel eyes boring into him from both sides of the room.

Ernie was pleasant enough company. But, come the practical part of the lesson, he became just a little too tactile for Harry's liking. A fact that had not gone unnoticed.

Harry made his way to the store cupboard to get some more Mugwort. He was in that much of a world of his own, that he didn't notice a certain blond person treading the same path in front of him. When Harry entered the cupboard, he was alarmed to find Draco already in there.

"I see you didn't waste anytime, Potter. Decided you do like cock after all, then?"

Harry flushed red and cast a quick, wary glance over his shoulder.

"Oh, don't worry," Draco continued scathingly. "Your dirty little secret is still safe."

Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his robes and licked his lips nervously. "There's nothing going on between me and Ernie," he said softly.

"Of course," Draco snorted. "Just like there was nothing going on with you and the Weasley slut."

That stung Harry. "It's the truth," he retorted hotly. "I never touched her. For Merlin's sake, Draco, I love you." He watched as the colour drained from the other boy's face.

"Don't say that," Draco replied icily. Pushing the door open, the blond turned to leave.

"Wait!" Harry instinctively grabbed hold of Draco's wrist. "Please," he added.

Draco merely looked at Harry's hand as if it was something particularly nasty and then met his earnest gaze with an unreadable expression.

"Don't ever touch me again." He flung Harry's hand off and made to exit the cupboard.

"Draco…"

The blond paused and spoke without turning round. "It's Malfoy to you, Potter."

* * *

"I can't believe the nerve of him," Draco complained later that evening. He was sat, as usual, in his favourite fireside chair, with his friends ranged round him; a bottle of Ogden's in his hand.

The comment came completely out of the blue, and his four friends eyed each other warily, fully aware of who 'him' was. Since their fight, Draco had not allowed mention of Harry's name, and had, himself, acted as though his ex-boyfriend didn't exist.

"Who are you talking about, sweetie?" Pansy enquired, realising none of the others were going to enter the conversation.

"Potter," Draco spat, a scowl firmly in place. "He was practically all over Macmillan in Potions this morning."

As Pansy was trying her best to come up with a response to this, clearly untrue, statement, Theo Nott beat her to it.

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco. You know he only sat there to avoid you. And judging from the state of him today, I doubt Harry even noticed that Macmillan was there half the time."

"Oh, it's Harry, is it?" Draco asked icily as he leant forward to pass the Firewhisky to Blaise. "Since when have you been on first name terms with Potter?"

"Since you started shagging him and insisted on it," Theo shot back.

"Fuck you, Nott!" Draco rose from his seat with as much dignity as a large amount of Firewhisky would allow. He snatched the bottle back out of Blaise's hands. "I'll have that back," he snapped. Without another word, he stalked in the direction of the boys' dormitory.

"Nice going, Theo," Blaise muttered. "That was the last of the alcohol."

Theo simply shrugged. "It's not my fault he can't handle the truth."

"But you know what Draco's like," Blaise whined. "You've known him long enough. Why do you provoke him all the time?"

"I'm not provoking him. But I refuse to baby him like you and Pansy do. He's acted like an arse over this whole thing with Harry, and it's about time someone told him that."

"Since when did you become such a fan of Potter? You used to hate him nearly as much as Draco did."

Theo rolled his eyes at this. "My father was a Death Eater. What did you expect?"

Tracey Davis chose this moment to sidle over and perch on the arm of her boyfriend's chair. "Seamus told Daphne that Potter is a mess. He's not sleeping or eating, and he's had nothing to do with Ginny Weasley for days."

"It's a bit late for him to be staying away from that slut now, isn't it?" Blaise stated, his temper rising slightly in defence of his friend. "The damage has already been done."

"Do you really believe it?" Theo asked, leaning forward in his seat. "I mean, this is Harry Potter we're talking about. He's like the archetypal Gryffindor. He's all noble and honourable, and all that crap."

"He was seen," Blaise replied stubbornly.

"What does Neville think?" Millicent enquired, deciding to join the conversation.

"He believes him," Blaise answered shortly.

Pansy caught the tightness in his voice and looked over in concern. "You two aren't fighting as well, are you?"

"Not fighting," Blaise replied. "But it is awkward."

Pansy nodded in understanding before getting to her feet. "I'm going to check on Draco," she explained in response to her friends' questioning stares.

It was usually wise to leave Draco alone for quite some time when he was in a mood, as the first person to approach him usually bore the brunt of his temper. But it was already late, and Blaise and Theo wanted to go to bed at some point. The looks of relief on their faces made Pansy smile.

"Cowards," she teased.

"Slytherins," they both corrected, in unison.---As she pushed the door open quietly, Pansy was relieved to find that Draco was already in bed. Thinking he was sleeping, she turned to leave.

"I'm still awake, Pans," came a muffled voice from behind the hangings.

Pansy walked closer and pulled back one of the green curtains. She perched on the edge of the bed and looked down at her friend. She noticed that Draco's eyes looked suspiciously red, but wisely chose not to mention it.

Pansy reached out a hand and lightly stroked Draco's blond locks. "You OK?" she questioned.

Draco nodded, but the almost-sad expression on his face was less than convincing. He rolled onto his back and looked up at his friend.

"Did I fuck up?" he asked quietly.

Pansy sighed. "Honestly? I don't know. I'm not going to tell you how you should have handled it, when I don't know how I would have reacted if it had happened to me."

Draco remained quiet for a moment and just lay there thinking. Pansy waited patiently, all the while stroking his hair.

"I trusted him, you know? Fuck it! I would have trusted him with my life if I had to. I never imagined that he would…" Draco trailed off, seemingly unable to give voice to exactly what it was he thought Harry had done.

"Maybe he didn't," Pansy suggested carefully.

"You heard what Granger said; they saw him. Why would she lie?"

Pansy didn't miss the almost pleading note to her friend's tone, as if he were willing her to have an explanation. "I don't know," she murmured softly. "I wish I did."

"Do you believe him, Pansy? Honestly?"

Pansy thought carefully before speaking. "I'm not sure. I want to believe him, and I think that a large part of me does. I don't know what motive Granger would have for lying, but I just can't imagine Harry cheating on you like that. Even a blind man could see how much he loved you."

Draco snuggled deeper under his covers, his eyes fighting to stay open. "That's what he said."

"Who? Harry?"

Draco just nodded, and yawned at the same time.

"What did he say?" Pansy was more than a little confused.

"That he loved me," Draco replied, in a tone that suggested he thought Pansy was rather stupid. "He came into the Potions storeroom while I was in there and tried to talk to me."

"What did you say when he told you that?" Pansy asked, already dreading the answer.

"I told him to never say it again." Draco looked so lost when he said this, that Pansy leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I don't want it to be true," Draco whispered. "If he never loved me, then I haven't lost anything, because it was never mine to start with. If I tell myself that everything between us was just a lie, it hurts, but it will be easier to get over. If I let myself believe that he does love me…Do you have any idea of how hard it would be to not just forgive him anything, just to have him back?"

Pansy struggled to make sense of Draco's rationalisation; she couldn't quite figure out why it would be so bad to just forgive Harry and have him back.

"I still have some pride," Draco muttered, as if reading Pansy's thoughts.

"But it's not as comforting as a pair of strong arms, though, is it?"

Draco glared. "You're not helping, Parkinson."

"Would it be so bad to just talk to him? At least hear his side of things?" Pansy wheedled. "What have you got to lose?"

"I'll think about it," Draco replied grumpily. Pansy grinned in the darkness. Draco was always so much easier to persuade when he had had a drink. She just had to hope that he remembered this conversation in the morning.

She kissed him again. "Get some sleep," she murmured against his cheek. Reaching into her pocket, Pansy pulled out a small glass vial and placed it on Draco's bedside cabinet.

"Hangover Potion," she explained. "Drink it when you get up, or you'll be like a bitch with a sore head all day!"


	54. Oblivion In A Bottle

**Author Note: Once again, apologies for the delay in updating. It's been a busy festive season for me, and then I've just got back of holiday. Anyway, hope you all had a good one, and here's the next chapter. Enjoy. Oh, and thanks so much to everyone who has read and/or reviewed so far! **

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning he yawned and stretched, spending a few moments just luxuriating in the warmth of his duvet. He felt the familiar pulse of his morning erection and, without thinking, slid one hand under the covers to relieve himself.

His fingertips had barely made it under the waistband of his pyjama bottoms before the memories of the last few days slammed into his brain with all the subtlety and finesse of a train wreck. Somehow, having experienced those few blissfully unaware moments, made remembering all the worse.

Harry didn't quite know how to respond to the pain anymore. He couldn't cry, because there were no tears, and, really, the pain went too deep for that anyway. Anger didn't help because, well, who was he supposed to be angry at? Draco, for not giving him a chance? Ron and Hermione, for their lack of faith? Ginny, for, well, he wasn't quite sure what Ginny had done. That she had done something was becoming increasingly clear, but without an actual accusation to make, his rage was a little impotent.

The truth was, the only person that Harry was truly angry with was himself. If he'd only listened to Draco, trusted his friends, been honest with himself, then none of this would, could have happened. Because everyone would have know that he was gay and in love with Draco, and Ginny would have had to of known that her schemes were pointless.

So, without tears or anger, Harry was just left with guilt and self-loathing – two emotions he was perfectly attuned to.

* * *

His newly-formed entourage accompanied him to breakfast once again, saying nothing, just offering him small supportive smiles.

Harry slumped into a seat at the Gryffindor table and concentrated his focus on trying to force down some porridge. A short while later he became aware of a supercilious-looking owl hovering above him, beating its wings impatiently. Harry barely had time to remove the letter before the haughty bird resumed its flight and vacated the Great Hall.

Recognising the owl, Harry opened Charlie's letter with some trepidation. He hadn't seen Charlie since Draco's New Year's party, and he was a little afraid that the older Weasley had heard about the events of the last few days and was writing as the angry older brother. At least it wasn't one of Mrs Weasley's Howlers, Harry thought, wincing at the memory.

First out of the scroll was a letter for Pansy, which he set to one side and opened his own with some unease. Harry let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding when Charlie's missive turned out to contain nothing more sinister than an invitation to Romania, come the end of school.

The mention of Draco contained in the letter caused Harry to look up and glance in the direction of the Slytherin table. He was startled to find grey eyes staring right back at him. For the first time in days, Draco's face wasn't twisted with scorn or hate; he looked thoughtful – meditative, even.

Harry felt a flare of hope burn through him at this. Maybe there was a chance, maybe Draco would let him explain, maybe he...Maybe he would stop thinking and get up, because Draco had left with Great Hall with an almost imperceptible nod of the head in his direction.

Harry's spoon clattered noisily to his plate; his hands clammy and ever-so-slightly trembling. A fierce internal debate raged within him, as he tried to decide if he had misread Draco's intentions. He glanced again at the Slytherin table. Pansy gave him an encouraging smile and made a slight shooing motion with her hands.

Feeling faintly sick, Harry pushed away from the table. This was it. This was his chance to put things right, to get Draco back. He turned to speak to Neville; the last thing he needed was for his 'bodyguards' to accompany him this time. When he looked at his friend, Harry found understanding written all over the other boy's face. Neville had seen the little by-play and nodded his approval.

Wiping his clammy hands nervously on his robes, Harry got to his feet and headed purposefully towards the doors.

* * *

Draco wasn't sure what the fuck he was doing, but he knew it was all Pansy's fault.

He cursed softly under his breath; he really ought to look into the possibility of befriending a few Hufflepuffs, he decided. They wouldn't emotionally manipulate the drunken friends.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to hex or hug the girl, but figured he would know the answer to that dilemma shortly.

Draco couldn't remember exactly their conversation from the night before, but he had woken up with an ache in his chest that had nothing to do with excessive Firewhisky consumption, and the urge to at least hear Harry out.

The thought that he might be wrong, made Draco feel slightly sick. He had spent the morning going over every cruel and hurtful thing he had said to Harry in the last couple of days, and just the memory had made him flinch. If he was wrong, if Harry truly was innocent, how could he ever expect to be forgiven for what he had done?

He had to hear Harry out, had to know, one way or the other, what the truth really was; for his own peace of mind, if for nothing else. Draco still loved Harry. He didn't even bother denying that. After all, if he didn't, then there wouldn't be this crushing weight on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

And if there was a chance, however small, that he could get back what he had lost, then he had to take it. A Malfoy always faced up to what needed to be done – well, most of the time, anyway.

Draco headed out of the main doors and paused, eyeing the steps speculatively. He cast a quick Cleaning Charm on them and, after scrutinising them further, he sat down. He had no concerns about Harry finding him; the Gryffindor seemed to have an inbuilt sixth sense when it came to locating people. Probably that infernal Map of his, Draco reflected.

"Draco?" Harry hovered in the doorway, watching the other boy with an expression somewhere between fear and hope.

Getting to his feet, Draco was forced to fight the overwhelming urge to gather the other boy into his arms.

"Harry," he said, cringing inwardly at the slight waver in his voice.

"Are you..."

"I just..."

Both boys started to speak at the same time, and stopped simultaneously.

"You go first," Harry said; he didn't really know what to say anyway.

"We need to talk," Draco said softly.

Harry resisted the impulse to point out that they already were. "I'd like that," he replied honestly. "I've missed you."

If Harry had been hoping for a similar declaration in return, then he was disappointed. Draco saw the flash of hurt in those familiar green eyes, but still couldn't bring himself to say it.

He would talk with Harry, allow him to give his side of things, but he would not give false hope. He had no idea how this was going to turn out and it wouldn't be fair to let Harry believe otherwise.

Draco stood up and walked up the stairs, until they were standing so close that Harry had to physically restrain the urge to reach out and touch.

"Harry!" A breathless Ginny Weasley emerged through the doors. "There you are," she panted. "Malfoy, could you give us a moment? Harry and I need to talk."

Harry was sure that someone had reached into his chest and stopped his heart from beating. "Not now, Ginny," he growled, barely daring to look at Draco.

"Malfoy doesn't mind, do you, Malfoy?"

Harry steeled himself to look at Draco and was suddenly deafened by the sound of his hopes shattering; the mask was firmly back in place.

"Far be it from me to come between two love birds," he drawled. Ginny simpered, oblivious to the undercurrent. Harry simply wanted to weep.

"Draco," he croaked.

But Draco was already halfway towards the doors. "Forget it, Potter," he said coolly. "It was a bad idea."

As the echo of the slamming doors faded, Harry turned to face Ginny, a cold rage filling him.

"I mind," he stated firmly.

"What are you talking about, Harry?"

"You said that Draco didn't mind. Well, I do. I have nothing to say to you." Harry's voice was calm but strained, and the redheaded girl seemed to understand that all was not well. She placed a hand on his arm.

"What are you saying?"

Harry rolled his eyes; how dumb was she?

"I don't want to talk to you; I don't even want to look at you. In fact, if I could, I would have someone Obliviate every memory of you out of my head." He paused here and noted, with some satisfaction, the hurt and confusion on her face.

Determined to drive the point home, Harry flung Ginny's hand off his arm. "You don't touch me, you don't speak to me, and I'd rather you didn't even think of me, ever. I don't love you. I don't even like you. You're a sad, pathetic, little bitch and I can't bear to be near you for a moment longer."

Ginny reeled back as though he had slapped her. It wasn't the words, so much as the way Harry looked. His expression was hard, his eyes like flints. And for the first time ever, Ginny began to under stand that maybe it really was over. That Harry couldn't, wouldn't be manipulated into taking her back.

As she watched her life's obsession walk away without so much as a backward glance, Ginny wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach and trembled uncontrollably.

* * *

After he left Ginny, Harry headed up to the library. He had a free period first thing, but he didn't want to chance returning to Gryffindor tower, just in case Ginny hadn't quite taken the hint. Plus, there was the likelihood that Ron would be there, and in the mood that Harry was in, he didn't think contact with either Weasley would be a good idea.

The library was blessedly empty when Harry arrived. He opted for one of the more secluded tables and sat down, spreading text books out in front of him. Not that he had any intention of working; his mind was far too distracted for that.

Truth be told, Harry was struggling to rein in his emotions. After Draco had walked away from him earlier, Harry had felt his heart break all over again. He had been so close. He would have given anything for the chance to talk to Draco, to be able to explain. And now, Ginny had ruined that, like she had ruined everything else.

Harry had never felt so much hatred for another person running through his veins before. Except possibly for Bellatrix Lestrange. But didn't that say something about Ginny, that she was now bracketed with a psychotic murderer in his estimations?

Harry tried his hardest to put that morning's events from his mind. Replaying them over only served to increase the crushing weight on his chest.

He read through Charlie's letter again, just for something to do. The older Weasley had invited both him and Draco, along with Pansy, out to Romania for the summer holidays. It was something that he and Draco had talked about the possibility of doing, and the blond Slytherin had been so excited at the prospect, having something of a secret passion for his namesakes.

For the remainder of the period Harry gave himself over to daydreaming, to existing only in the happier memories of his relationship with Draco. It was a pleasant experience at the time, but it only served to make his return to reality more acutely painful. How could something so wonderful, fall apart so quickly? Except Harry already knew the answer to that – Ginny Weasley.

A quick glance at the clock told Harry that it was time for DADA, so, with a concerted effort, he pushed the bitter, angry thoughts from his mind, and began gathering his belongings together. He slipped Pansy's letter from Charlie into his robe packed and headed off to the Defence classroom.

On arrival, he was relieved to see that there was no sign of Draco yet; he still hadn't worked out how he was going to face the other boy. Pansy was there, leaning against the wall outside the classroom, chatting to Blaise and Neville.

Harry walked closer. "Pansy," he called softly.

The dark-haired girl's face lit into a smile at the sight of him. She pushed off from the wall and walked over. "How did it go?" she asked eagerly.

It took Harry a few moments to process what she was talking about. 'Of course' he thought, 'she means the talk with Draco.' "Not well," he replied, doing his best to keep his tone neutral.

"But I thought-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry interrupted. "I can't, not yet."

Pansy took a closer look and saw the hurt in her friend's eyes. "Okay," she agreed. "But if you ever do want to talk, I don't mind listening."

"Well, isn't this cosy?"

Harry flinched at the sneer in Draco's voice.

"Draco, we're just talking," Pansy replied, just a touch of exasperation in her voice.

"I can see that for myself, thanks, Pansy. What I want to know is why? What could you, as my best friend, possibly have to say to him? Where's your loyalty?"

Pansy tensed up a little at this. She turned to face Draco, an icy stare firmly in place. "I'm sorry, Draco. For a minute there it sounded like you were telling me who I could talk to."

"Pansy, it's okay," Harry said softly. "You don't have to..."

"Yes, Harry, I do. Draco, you're probably the best friend I'll every have, but that doesn't give you the right to order me around. Harry is my friend and I won't just abandon him on your say so."

"Is that so?" Draco sneered. "Well, I hope he's worth it then, because you can't have us both."

Pansy was momentarily stunned. "A-Are you asking me to chose?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort. I'm simply saying that if you are my friend, then your loyalty to me would preclude your friendships with those who have betrayed me."

Harry went cold at this. Draco must really hate him to risk losing Pansy over it. Not that he really would, Harry reflected. As close as he and the Slytherin girl had become recently, Harry knew he couldn't possibly compete with the history she had with Draco. Pansy wouldn't want to chose, but if Draco insisted, well, Harry knew there was only one choice she could make.

He fumbled in his pocket, his trembling fingers brushing against the smooth parchment of Charlie's letter.

Pansy and Draco were both stood glaring at each other silently. Harry knew how much it hurt to lose such an important friendship; he still ached from the loss of Ron and Hermione, and he couldn't bear to be the cause of that hurt to anyone else.

He held out the letter, hoping neither Slytherin noticed how his hand shook.

"It's okay," he repeated, somewhat unconvincingly. "I just wanted to give you this."

Pansy reached for the letter and her gaze locked with his, her eyes full of apologies. "Harry," she started uncertainly.

Harry shook his head. "It's okay. I understand," he said, more firmly this time, before turning and walking away slowly.

Even Draco's smug expression faltered as he watched the dejected figure of his ex-boyfriend walk away.

"Sometimes I hate you, Draco Malfoy. I hope you're proud of yourself?" Pansy didn't wait for a reply. She stormed into the classroom without as much as a backward glance for her best friend.

* * *

Harry was a mess; there was no other word for it. It had taken every ounce of his self-control to walk away from Draco; to not beg, or plead, or simply breakdown.

The tears, that had been absent for the last couple of days, had now returned with a vengeance. They were prickling fiercely at the back of his eyelids, and he knew he just had to get away before the storm burst forth.

He hurried up the stairs to Gryffindor tower. Tears hot on his face by the time he reached the Fat Lady. Harry sped up the stairs into his dormitory and, slamming the door behind him, slid down the heavy wood till he rested on the floor, arms wrapped around his bent legs, his head resting on his knees.

The sobs tore from his throat and wracked his body with such ferocity that he felt almost like he was going to break apart. Eventually the tears dried up and only the continuing shudders that ran through his body bore witness to the storm that had just taken place.

Harry couldn't remember ever having felt this utterly alone before. The closest he had ever come to this bitter sense of emptiness, had been in the aftermath of Sirius' death. And even the memory of that pain seemed to pale in comparison to the utter gut-wrenching misery that consumed him now.

There had to be someway to make it all stop, even if only for a short while. It had only been three days since his world had fallen apart, but it seemed like an eternity to Harry, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

He got to his knees and crawled the short distance to his bed. There, in his bedside cabinet, was the answer. Oblivion in a bottle – otherwise known as Seamus' Firewhisky.

Ignoring the fact that it was barely mid-morning, Harry quickly unscrewed the cap and raised the bottle to his lips. He choked harshly as the fiery liquid burnt a path down his throat.

He closed his eyes as he waited for the burn to subside. Draco's image swam before his eyes, sneering and cruel as he had been earlier. The memory hit Harry harder than any blow ever could have.

The bottle was swiftly raised to his lips again in a desperate attempt to block the memories and the pain, even if only for a short while. It wasn't a particularly healthy way to handle things; he knew that. But he didn't care. It was the only available option at that moment, and Harry was going to take it. Consequences be damned.

* * *

Pansy was angry with Draco. No, scratch that, she was furious with him. How dare he put her in a position like that? And the hurt expression on Harry's face had just made her long to gather him in her arms and soothe it all away.

She purposefully sank into the seat at the side of Neville in DADA, forcing Blaise to retreat to Draco's side. Neville took one look at her intense expression and filed away all his questions for another occasion.

He noticed right away that Harry was missing, and assumed, correctly, that his absence had something to do with Pansy's steely gaze and the thoughtful glances that Malfoy kept shooting in her direction.

Neville deduced that all had not gone well between Harry and Draco earlier. It had all seemed so promising at the time. He couldn't bear watching his friend wallowing in this pit of misery and despair. Harry's eyes had that dead, soulless look to them that he hadn't seen for many months. Being with Malfoy had chased that away, and now it was back. And because he had seen how happy his friend could be, this emptiness seemed all the more painful.

There was no sign of Harry at lunch either. Pansy very pointedly sat herself between Daphne and Millicent, resolutely refusing to meet Draco's gaze. Her eyes were fixed on the entrance, watching for some sign of Harry. She was starting to get more than a little concerned by his continued absence.

By the time that Potions began after lunch, and there was still no sign of him, Pansy decided that enough was enough. As the lesson ended, she hurriedly cleared away her work and then waited patiently outside the door for her target.

When a familiar frizzy head came into view, Pansy went into action.

"Granger," she called.

Hermione turned with a look of surprise on her face. "Pansy," she replied neutrally. "What can I do for you?"

"I need a word. It's about Harry."

The Weasel, never far from his girlfriend's elbow, snorted derisively at this and looked about to launch into a rant.

"It's all right, Ron. You go on ahead. I'll catch you up."

Pansy thought for a moment that Weasley was going to argue, but he obviously saw something in his girlfriend's eyes that made him think better of it. Hermione watched him leave and then turned to face Pansy with curiosity evident on her face.

"Now, what about Harry?"

Pansy wasn't entirely sure where to start, but she was sick of watching people get hurt, people she cared about. Something in this whole situation didn't add up.

"I need to know what you saw," she blurted out eventually.

Hermione's gaze softened at this. "Pansy, I know it must be hard for you to accept, but it's true. Ron and I saw Harry and Ginny kissing."

"Can you be sure it was him, though?" Pansy persisted. There was something like pity in the Head Girl's face and it stuck in the Slytherin girl's throat.

"I know you don't want to believe this, but it was Harry. I didn't just see him, I heard him too."

Pansy latched onto this last bit. "Heard him? What did he say?"

Hermione squirmed visibly for a moment. "He said that he never wanted anyone but Ginny. That he was just using you to make her jealous. I'm sorry, Pansy, but he said you meant nothing to him."

Hermione had been prepared for many reactions to her revelations; anger, tears, even violence. She certainly hadn't been expecting what she got.

"I could kiss you, Granger." Pansy grinned wildly. Then, she placed her hands on the other girl's shoulders and pulled her into a brief hug, before disappearing off down the corridor at speed.

Pansy ran all the way from the dungeons up to the Charms' classroom. Ron eyed her arrival with suspicion. Doubtless wondering where she had hidden his girlfriend's body. Pansy ignored the pointed glares – she had more important things to attend to.

Neville was just about to enter the classroom, when he felt someone grip his arm tightly. He turned to face Pansy with a questioning look.

"I need your help," she stated firmly, before adding, "It's about Harry."

Neville's eyes widened. "Is he in trouble?"

Pansy shook her head. "No, or at least, I don't think so. But I need to talk to him."

Neville looked over his shoulder into the classroom. "He's not here."

Pansy suppressed the overwhelming temptation to roll her eyes. "I know that. He's not been in lessons all day."

"Is he sick?" Neville asked. "He seemed okay this morning."

Pansy shook her head impatiently. "Not sick, now. But Draco said some things earlier, things that upset him, and I haven't seen him since."

"Oh. So what do you need me for?"

"Well, I imagine that Harry is currently hiding up in Gryffindor, licking his wounds. So I need you to accompany me up there and give that hideous fat woman the password so that she'll let me in."

"How upset was he?" Neville asked, his voice laced with concern.

Pansy just gave him a look that spoke volumes. Neville nodded and grabbed her arm. "C'mon then. Before Professor Flitwick arrives."

"He didn't do it," Pansy said breathlessly as they hurried up to the seventh floor. "I mean, it wasn't him with Ginny."

"I know," was all Neville said in reply.

"But Draco will listen to me. He'll have to give Harry a chance now."

Neville paused midway through the portrait hole. "But does Malfoy deserve to be given a chance?"

"Probably not," Pansy admitted. "But they're both equally miserable without each other, and I just want to see them happy."

They made their way up to the boys' dormitory and Neville pushed the door open. Pansy reeled back. "Merlin, Longbottom! It stinks in here. Does it always smell this bad?"

"No," Neville answered grimly before entering the room. "Harry," he called, his voice a little tense.

The glass from the broken Firewhisky bottle crunched underfoot. "Well, I guess that explains part of the smell," Pansy observed, paling noticeably.

"I'm not so sure I want to locate the source of the other smell," Neville answered wryly.

Pansy headed straight for the bathroom and pushed the door open. No sooner had he stepped into the room than a loud gasp escaped her lips.

"Neville! He's here."

Something in the urgency of her voice had Neville at the door in seconds.

There, slumped on the bathroom floor, obviously drunk out of his mind, with vomit all down his clothes was Harry.

Pansy was crouched at his side, staring worriedly at his arm. Neville stepped closer and nearly lost his lunch at the sight of the deep gouge marring his friend's forearm. When he could bring himself to look again, he noticed that there were trails of silvery scars littering the pale flesh.

"You knew," he accused, upon realising that Pansy did not seem remotely just nodded, her eyes focussed on Harry's arm, her hand pressed firm against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. "Yes," she agreed finally. "I knew. But I hardly think that now is the time for recriminations."

She grabbed a nearby towel and began winding it tightly around Harry's arm. "We need to get him to the hospital wing. I'm not sure if it is the alcohol or the blood loss that has caused him to pass out."

Neville moved as if on auto pilot. He scooped Harry up in his arms as if he were no more than a rag doll. He was in something of a daze. Neville had always prided himself on being observant, on seeing things that no one else did. He had known that Harry was in pain, but to think that this had been going on, right under his nose, for Merlin knew how long... Well, it just made him feel sick.

Pansy knew that Harry would be angry when he woke up in the hospital wing, knowing that his secret was out. She knew that she would be, if the situation was reversed. But she also knew that it had to stop. Harry hadn't meant to kill himself, yet he almost had. The thought that her friend could have died, and that by keeping his secret she would have been complicit in his death, made Pansy's blood run cold.

The relief she had felt when Madam Pomfrey had told them that Harry was sleeping naturally and would be alright had been overwhelming.

"Don't...don't tell anyone about this, will you?" Pansy eyed the Gryffindor boy nervously.

Neville looked hurt by the suggestion. "Of course not. But Harry needs professional help. It's not something that you two can handle between you."

"I know that now," Pansy admitted sadly. "We just thought…At the time, it seemed like we could."

"Does Draco know?"

Pansy shook her head. "No. He only told me, and made me promise not to tell anyone else. It was all going alright, 'till this whole break up with Draco."

Pansy got up from her seat then, a determined look on her face. "Neville, will you stay here with Harry for a bit? I have someone I need to go and talk to."

Neville just smiled in return. "Sure. I'd planned to hang on a bit longer anyway. Give that idiot some from me, too."

Pansy just grinned evilly, and for the first time ever, Neville almost felt sorry for Draco Malfoy.


	55. GayBoy Who Lived

Pansy left the hospital wing and headed off in the direction of the dungeons with all the purpose of a woman possessed. With each footstep she could feel her anger building towards the boy who had been her best friend since infancy.

If she was honest with herself, Pansy hadn't been that shocked to find that, in his misery, Harry had taken refuge in harming himself – she knew it would have been her first instinct if the situation had been reversed.

Both Neville and Madam Pomfrey had initially jumped to the conclusion that Harry had attempted suicide, and Pansy had found herself in the awkward position of having to explain, as briefly as she could, the concept of self-harm. It was something that was relatively unheard of in the wizarding world and she could see that they both struggled in their understanding of her words.

When she had finished, Pansy noted the older matron eyeing her speculatively, and she just knew that her own secrets weren't going to remain hidden for long.

Pansy did feel guilty for betraying Harry's trust, but she was realistic enough to know that there was no other option. Harry needed help, they both needed help, and if there was anything that had been drummed into her head during her extended stay at St Mungo's, it was that you had to talk things out in order to heal.

It was the main reason that she had managed to abstain from harming for so long. Having someone who understood, someone she could talk to, had given Pansy the courage to face her demons head on. But as she thought back over their many conversations, she began to realise just how one-sided they had been. She had talked, and Harry had listened and comforted her, but he had shared very little of his own feelings in return.

But as the entrance to the Slytherin common room loomed up ahead, Pansy cleared her mind of such thoughts and focussed on the task at hand.

The common room was full of students milling around, relaxing after the day's lessons. She ran her eye over the crowded room, but no gleaming blond head was in sight. However, her eyes did light upon a certain dark, curly head.

"Where is he, Blaise?"

Blaise looked momentarily startled by Pansy's tone. "In the dorm. But I wouldn't bother him just now. He's..." Blaise trailed off as Pansy had already turned in the direction of the boys' bedroom.

She entered the room without knocking, much to the horror of a half-naked Theodore, whose cries of outrage she brushed aside.

"Stop squealing, Theo, for Merlin's sake. You're not a first year Hufflepuff."

"Pansy! What the hell are you doing in here?" Draco stood in the bathroom doorway, dressed only in his boxers, lightly towelling his damp hair.

"I need to talk to you." It was a mark of just how focussed Pansy was that she didn't even take the opportunity to appraise Draco's body.

"Give us a minute, will you, Theo?" It was a command phrased as a request; Theodore understood that, and, pulling on a jumper, he stropped out of the room.

"I didn't think we were talking," Draco said lightly.

"It's about Harry."

"No!" Draco snapped, his expression stony. "We are not discussing this anymore. The subject is closed."

"Well, that's just where you're wrong," Pansy responded cheerily.

Before Draco had time to reply, her wand was out and pointing in his direction. "_Incarcerous._"

Draco found himself bound to the post of his bed by numerous thin ropes; his own wand lay, useless, on his bedside table.

"Undo me now, Parkinson." His voice was cold and dangerous, and Pansy simply ignored it. But before she could say anything further, the door opened.

"Draco, are you...?" Blaise's curly head peered round the door and his eyes widened as they took in the scene. "What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?"

"Experimenting, Blaise," Draco drawled. "Pansy fancies herself as quite the dominatrix."

Blaise's eyes widened impossibly. "Really?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "And people though that Crabbe and Goyle were the dumb ones," he muttered, causing Pansy to smile.

"No, you idiot," he continued. "Clearly Pansy has gone insane. Must be the time of the month, or something. So if you could just lend a hand?"

"Huh?" Blaise's mind was still on the kinky sex.

Draco nodded at the ropes that bound him. "Set me free," he snapped impatiently.

Before Blaise could move, Pansy levelled her wand on him. "Draco and I need some alone time, right now. Be a dear, and leave us alone."

Blaise looked, warily, from one friend to the other. "You're both mad," he commented, before leaving them to it. Pansy watched him go and then turned back to Draco, smiling smugly.

"Now, where were we?"

"When I get out of this," Draco snarled.

"Yes, yes," Pansy agreed airily. "I have no doubt that you'll Hex me into next week. But like I said before, right now, we need to talk about Harry."

"If your big plan is for us to have a heart to heart, where you persuade me to give him a second chance, then you've forgotten two things."

"Really?" Pansy asked in amusement.

"One – this time I'm sober, and two – I've already tried the second chance thing this morning, and it failed miserably."

"Ah yes, but it's not Harry who needs the second chance this time. It's you."

Draco looked at Pansy with the kind of expression that most people reserved for dealing with Luna Lovegood. "You're cracked," he sneered, struggling against his restraints.

"It wasn't Harry. He didn't kiss Ginny Weasley."

Draco opened his mouth to refute this, but something in the calm, knowing look on his friend's face caused him to close it again. His face paled visibly at her words, but he refused to acknowledge defeat.

"What makes you so certain all of a sudden? You've got second sight now, have you?"

Pansy smiled. "No, but I did have a very interesting little chat with Granger after Potions today."

"I don't see how-"

"Just shush," Pansy interrupted. "Or I'll silence you."

Draco glared mutinously, but remained noticeably silent.

"Granger didn't just _see_ Harry and the She-Weasel together, she heard them talking, too. Apparently, she heard Harry telling Ginny that he was going to break up with me for her, and that he was just using me to make her jealous."

"Certainly made her jealous alright," Draco snorted. "Turned her into a psychotic bunny boiler, more like."

Pansy just started at her friend meaningfully, with one eyebrow raised.

"What?" Draco snapped, twisting futilely against his bonds. "That doesn't prove anything."

"Draco, think about it. Harry and I aren't, or weren't dating."

"I do know that, Pansy. I'm not Blaise."

"You know that," Pansy said patiently. "But Ginny Weasley doesn't. She thinks that Harry and I have been going out for months. As do most of the school. Why would Harry own up to a relationship that didn't exist?" Pansy stepped closer and looked intently into her friend's eyes. "Look, I don't know if it was a Glamour or Polyjuice or what. But that wasn't Harry; I'm certain of it."

Grey eyes locked onto her own and seemed to be searching her soul. After what seemed like an eternity, Draco's gaze dropped to the floor and he sagged noticeably against his restraints.

"Let me go, please," he said softly.

Pansy looked at him warily; best friend or not, he was still a Slytherin. "Why?"

"Because I have a boyfriend to find, and a Weasley to kill."

"Never mind the She-Weasel for now," Pansy chided. "You should be worrying about Harry. You've been a complete bastard to him since this all started."

"You think I don't know that? He'll probably never forgive me, and I wouldn't blame him."

Pansy could hear the desperation in Draco's voice, and she couldn't help but take pity on him. "I'm fairly sure that he will. Not that you deserve it, or him for that matter."

"I know." The look of anguish on Draco's face went a long way to melting Pansy's anger.

"Could you let me go now? I have to find him."

With a flick of her wand, Pansy vanished the ropes. "You don't have to look for him. I know where Harry is."

* * *

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this before."

"Now is hardly the time. And anyway, I tried to tell you, months ago, and you wouldn't listen."

"I just...I never thought that Harry was the type to do something like that."

Pansy came to a halt halfway through the doorway to the hospital wing. "Type? There is no type. Harry doesn't do this because he's weak and pathetic, you know."

"I never thought that," Draco said quickly. "It's just...I can't get my head around someone wanting to do that."

Pansy just shrugged; she didn't have the energy right then to try and explain to Draco what motivated someone to want to mutilate themselves. If she was totally honest, she didn't fully understand it herself.

Neville was still sitting where she had left him. He stood up and walked towards them. His expression was neutral, but Draco could see the anger in his eyes.

"How is he?" Pansy wanted to know.

"Still sleeping," Neville replied. "Madam Pomfrey gave him some Dreamless Sleep; he'll probably be out for a while yet."

"Is she still around?" Pansy asked warily; the school matron was no great lover of Slytherins.

"No." Neville shook his head. "She went off to find Professor McGonagall. I guess, to talk about Harry." He paused here and looked pointedly at Draco. "Will you be okay to sit with him? I really ought to go and clean the dorm up."

"Yeah, you go on. We'll be fine." Pansy smiled reassuringly.

Neville nodded. He turned his attention to Draco, regarding him coolly. "You'd better make this right, Malfoy," he stated calmly.

"I will. I promise," Draco answered, with a sincerity rarely heard from Malfoy lips.

Draco never heard Neville's parting words or Pansy's conversation as they crossed the ward. Every fibre of his being was focussed on the pale figure lain out in front of him.

Harry looked like death warmed up. His skin was so pale and had an almost greyish tinge to it; probably from the blood loss, Draco thought with a shudder. He reached out a trembling hand and gently brushed the messy fringe back off Harry's forehead. His fingers then trailed down his cheek bones, skimming over the still-bruised flesh that bore witness to his own outburst of temper.

The sight of the bruises, and the knowledge that he had inflicted them, caused a tightening in Draco's chest that made it hard for him to breath. "He looks so small," he said shakily.

Pansy laid a hand on his shoulder and pushed him gently into a nearby chair.

Draco then ran his hand down to Harry's arm, which lay, bare, on top of the covers. The only evidence of his recent injury was a thick strip of pink, newly-healed skin. His eyes took in the web of faint scars that marred the pale flesh.

"How could I not know?" he whispered. "He was in my bed nearly every night. I should have known."

Pansy sighed and shook her head. "He didn't want you to know. People who self-harm, they're ashamed of it, so they hide. Harry used a strong Glamour so that you wouldn't see."

"How long has it been going on?" Draco asked, fearful of the answer.

Pansy sighed. "From what he told me, it started about the beginning of last term."

Draco rubbed the back of his neck distractedly, before turning to look at his friend. "And you? How long have you been doing it?"

Pansy blanched. "H-H-How did you know?"

Draco shrugged. "I didn't, until now," he said sadly. He reached out for her hand and laced their fingers together. "I want to help," he said determinedly. "Both of you. Whatever it takes. Just don't...don't shut me out, okay?"

Pansy squeezed his hand in return. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to. I just couldn't tell anyone; I was so ashamed. It was different with Harry because he understood. We used to talk and support each other." Her gaze shifted back to the bed. "As far as I know, this is the first time he's done this in months."

"So it's my fault, then," Draco replied bitterly.

"No," Pansy said emphatically. "You didn't make Harry cut himself. I'm not saying that you haven't been a complete bastard recently-"

"Thanks for the ego boost," Draco drawled.

"Truth hurts," Pansy replied simply. "You've been a right shit to him, we both know that. But it's not your fault that Harry cuts. It's...everyone has their own way of coping, and this is his. Your behaviour hasn't helped, but you're not responsible for this."

Soft murmurs drew both their attentions back to the narrow bed and its pale occupant. Draco's heart was in his mouth as he watched those beautiful green eyes flutter open.

Harry smiled sleepily at him. "Draco," he whispered hoarsely. Suddenly, those eyes snapped wide open and darted in the direction of his exposed arm. A soft whimper rose in his throat as Harry tried to pull his arm away from Draco's touch.

Pansy stepped forward at this moment and began stroking her hand over his dark, unruly locks. "It's okay," she soothed.

Harry turned to face her, eyes wide with fear.

"He knows," she admitted. "I had to tell him; I was so scared." Her voice cracked on the last word and Pansy all but hurled herself on top of Harry, hugging the life out of him.

"It's okay," Harry murmured, running a soothing hand down her back. He relaxed into the embrace for a short while, feeling Pansy's tears hot against his skin. When she finally managed to rein in her emotions, she pulled back, her eyes rimmed red, and sniffled quietly.

"Sorry for being such a wuss," she muttered.

Harry managed a weak smile. "'S okay."

He then turned his head slowly to face the tense blond at his side. Mistaking the set of Draco's jaw for anger, he flinched slightly. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I wanted to tell you, I really did. But I was just so ashamed."

"Don't you dare apologise to me." Draco was struggling to maintain his calm, and his voice ended up sounding rather more like a snarl than he had intended. Realising this, he let his mask drop and allowed his concern to show. He took hold of Harry's hand again and began stroking it gently.

"You have done nothing to apologise for. I should be the one begging you for forgiveness."

"Never a truer word," Pansy commented lightly.

"Pansy," Harry protested weakly.

"Don't you dare defend him, Harry. Draco has been an unmitigated arse for the last few days. He ought to be on his knees grovelling, right now."

Seeing Harry open his mouth to argue, Draco pressed a finger gently against his lips. "She's right. I had no right to behave the way that I did. There's no excuse for the way I treated you."

Harry looked at him in confusion. "What's changed? Last time I saw you, you still hated me."

A small smile crossed Draco's face. "Pansy can be very persuasive," he said cryptically.

Harry turned to the Slytherin girl for clarification. Pansy stood examining her nails casually. "It was nothing really," she said airily. "I just tied him to the bed and told him a few home truths."

Harry couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him at the mental image Pansy provided.

"Slytherins," he said, shaking his head. "I don't think I'll ever fully understand you."

Pansy smiled in return, before her expression became more serious. "I spoke to Granger."

Harry tensed noticeably at the mention of his old friend; he still couldn't reconcile himself to her betrayal.

"No, it's a good thing," Pansy hastened to reassure him. "It turns out that she didn't just see you snogging the She-Weasel, but she heard you telling her about how you were going to dump me for her."

"But we're not..." Harry protested.

"I know, Harry. But obviously Ginny Weasley doesn't."

A light of understanding dawned in Harry's eyes. He swivelled his head to face Draco. "So you...?"

"Yes," Draco replied softly. "I know that you were telling the truth. I should have trusted you." His head bowed, causing a bright curtain of hair to partly shield his face.

Harry reached out tentatively and brushed Draco's hair from his eyes. "It's okay."

Draco's head snapped up at this. "It's not okay, Harry," he insisted. "I didn't even give you a chance to explain. I don't even know how to say how sorry I am."

Harry grinned. "I'm sure that I can think of ways for you to make it up to me."

"How can you joke about it?" Draco asked incredulously. "After everything I put you through." His fingers lightly traced the scars on Harry's arm.

"You didn't do this," Harry insisted as he watched Draco's fingers. "Yes, you were an arse; I'm not going to deny that. But you didn't make me do this."

"But-"

"No. It was me, Draco. This wasn't your fault. I have to accept responsibility for my own actions."

Pansy smiled approvingly at this, and then gave Draco a look that clearly said 'drop it.'

"One thing I don't understand, though," Harry said. "What happened? I mean, Hermione and Ron are insistent that they saw me, and _we_ all know that it wasn't me." He paused and looked uncertainly at Draco here, who smiled and nodded.

"It's just, I can see Ginny lying about something like this, but not the others. But they must be, and I really don't get why."

"Polyjuice," Draco replied.

Harry's eyes widened at this.

"So Ron and Hermione weren't lying? They really did see me, or at least, someone they thought was me?" Harry asked, the hope evident in his tone.

Draco nodded and stroked Harry's hair lightly. "If I had to guess, I would say it was Weasley and her Hufflepuff boyfriend. He seemed to take her infidelity very well, now that I come to think about it."

Harry sank back against the pillows, relief shining from his face. "That makes sense," he agreed, stifling a yawn.

"You're tired," Draco accused.

"A little," Harry admitted. "I haven't been sleeping much lately.

Draco flushed guiltily at this. Harry reached for his hand. "It's alright."

"No, it's not," Draco said, shaking his head. "But I'm going to do everything in my power to make it so it is." He leant down and pressed a light kiss to his boyfriend's lips. "Get some rest."

Harry nodded sleepily and burrowed further under the covers. Pansy kissed him also, ruffling his hair affectionately. "See you tomorrow, sleepyhead."

Harry just grinned and murmured, "Night night."

Dark lashes swept against his pale cheeks, and Draco stood at his bedside for a few moments longer, just gazing down at him. He reached out and smoothed the covers over Harry's body and then allowed Pansy to lead him out of the hospital wing.

"You don't deserve him, you know?"

Draco just nodded. There was no malice in Pansy's words; it was just a statement of fact. But he vowed silently to himself that, whatever it took, he would make it up to Harry. Coming so close to losing him forever had only served to make Draco realise just how important a part of his life the other boy had become. He couldn't image a future that didn't have Harry in it.

* * *

Ginny Weasley was worried. She had learned from Ron that Harry hadn't been in any of his lessons that day, and now he hadn't shown up to dinner either.

Something was clearly going on. She had tried questioning Neville on his whereabouts but he had remained tight-lipped.

Ginny had already forgiven Harry for his outburst that morning. At first she had been shocked and hurt, but the more she thought about it, the more she understood that he hadn't meant it.

Harry was still angry with her for the way she had managed to break up his relationship with that Slytherin slut, but Ginny knew that once she got the chance to explain, to make him see that she had done it for him, for them and their future, then Harry would forgive her.

Ginny's only concern was how she was going to get the chance to explain when Harry was so intent on avoiding her.

She gazed thoughtfully at Neville, observing how preoccupied he seemed. She followed his gaze over in the direction of the Slytherin table and noticed, with a sickening lurch, that neither Malfoy nor Parkinson were at dinner either.

It seemed too convenient to simply be a coincidence. _That was probably what Malfoy was talking to Harry about this morning_, she thought. _I bet he's trying to get Harry to take that slut back. Slytherins will do anything to get what they want._

Ginny felt her temper flare at the thought of that whore getting her hands on Harry, her Harry, again. Without another thought, she pushed away from the table and resolutely made her way out of the Great Hall.

Her first destination was Gryffindor tower. She hurried breathlessly through the portrait hole and made her way up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. She hoped that she was wrong and that she would find Harry in his room, alone. Maybe then she could convince him to listen, to let her explain.

When she pushed the door open and found the room empty, Ginny let out a cry of rage. She was about to storm off when she noticed Harry's trunk, unlocked, at the end of his bed. In a heartbeat she was across the room, had the lid thrown back, and was rummaging through Harry's belongings.

"Where is that damn Map?" she muttered. If she could just find it, she would be able to know where he was, and, more importantly, who he was with. That she was violating his trust and privacy never occurred to her; she was doing this for Harry's own good.

She crowed triumphantly as her fingers closed around the worn parchment. Eagerly, she unfolded it, with slightly trembling fingers. As she did so, something came loose and fluttered to the ground. Instinctively, she reached down to retrieve it, wanting to leave no trace of her presence.

No sooner had her eyes registered what she held than all the colour drained from her face, and a horrified gasp escaped her lips. Her hand clutched at the post of Harry's bed for support, her knuckles white – such was the intensity of her grip.

Finally, shaking herself out of the trance, she tucked her find securely into her robe pocket. With trembling hands, she began repacking Harry's trunk, carefully covering her tracks.

By the time Ginny left the boys' dormitory, her initial shock had faded and, instead, an icy cold rage had taken hold. All thoughts of locating Harry had fled from her mind. Ginny's only thoughts at that moment were of revenge, and in her pocket was the perfect weapon to help her achieve that.

* * *

Draco didn't sleep much that night. His mind was on overdrive, busily processing the day's developments. Despite knowing that it was true, and even having seen evidence for himself, Draco was finding it hard to accept the revelation of Harry's self-harming.

Draco had never heard of something like that before. Sure, he had heard stories of people who tried to kill themselves in that manner, but this was something entirely different. Harry didn't want to die, he just wanted to hurt.

Draco was trying his best to understand, really he was, but he was finding it extremely difficult to get his head around the concept. Harry had always seemed so strong, so resilient, often against overwhelming odds. The fact that he had managed to hide something so serious, left Draco questioning how much he really knew about his boyfriend.

Not that he doubted for a moment that Harry was who he wanted. Even over the last few days, with everything that had happened, Draco had been unable to deny the truth of his feelings; if it wasn't love, it wouldn't have hurt quite so much.

And there was another thing keeping his sleep at bay. Draco couldn't help but replay every confrontation he had had with Harry since the weekend, and with each one, the knife would twist just a little more in his gut.

Just the thought of how he had behaved, the things that he had said, left a taste of bile in his mouth. That his behaviour had contributed to Harry's actions was without doubt in his mind. He didn't care what Pansy or Harry said; he knew that it was his fault. What kind of a monster did that make him?

And then there was Pansy. It wasn't enough that he had been oblivious to his boyfriend's suffering, he hadn't even noticed his best friend's pain. Pansy was a good Slytherin; she wore the mask well. She always seemed so calm and together, and it was easy to forget, what, such a short time ago, she had been through.

But Draco was not one give to endless bouts of soul-searching and introspection. He couldn't change what had been; there was no way to take back his actions or unsay his words. He didn't deserve Harry's forgiveness, he knew that. But he was going to earn it. Whatever it cost and however long it took, he would prove to Harry just how much he meant to him.

* * *

Harry was disorientated when he woke up the next morning. This was somewhat ironic, considering the amount of time he had spent in the hospital wing over the years. For once, though, he was not that eager to be released.

The thought of facing his friends again left him feeling slightly panicked. Madam Pomfrey had let slip that it was Neville who had brought him in the night before; his secret was out now.

It had been okay with just Pansy knowing. After all, she understood why and never judged. But if Neville knew, the chances were that Dean and Seamus knew too, and then it would be a short stop before the whole school found out.

Harry tried not to think too much about that. He focussed instead on more pleasant thoughts – like Draco.

Harry supposed that he should be angry with his boyfriend. That he should make him suffer for his behaviour over the last few days. But his heart just wasn't in it. The concern he had seen in those beloved grey eyes the night before had told him all he needed to know.

Yes, there were some issues that they had to work out before they could move forward. But losing Draco, however briefly, had allowed Harry a glimpse of what life without the blond would be like, and it was something that he never wanted to experience again.

They would work through it and come out the other side stronger for having endured it; Harry was sure of that. And anyway, if he was honest with himself, he knew that he wasn't entirely blameless in the whole mess. How could he stay angry at Draco for not trusting him, when he had been guilty of the exact same thing?

They had promised not to keep secrets from each other, to always be upfront, and yet he had kept this huge thing from Draco.

Harry knew the reason that he hadn't told his boyfriend was mainly because he was ashamed. But it was also because he thought that Draco wouldn't want him anymore. He hadn't trusted Draco enough to believe that he would stay with him, no matter what. So how could he stay angry with the blond for his own crisis of faith, especially when there had been such convincing witnesses to the supposed betrayal?

And there was another thing that Harry was feeling better about. Over the last few days, the pain he had felt at losing Draco had almost been equalled by the hurt he felt at the thought of his best friends' treachery. To find out that Ron and Hermione hadn't been lying, or trying to deliberately hurt him, had been an immense relief. He couldn't be angry with Ron for hitting him; he had genuinely believed what he had seen – and who wouldn't?

The only person that Harry had any anger for was Ginny. But even that was tempered by a sense of bewilderment that someone he had cared about could want to hurt him so badly.

Ginny had changed so much this last year, so much so that Harry barely recognised her anymore. He knew that she had been affected by the war, but so had everyone else, and none of them were running around attacking people and wrecking lives.

He didn't want her to get away with what she had done, but the trouble was there was no proof. It would just be his word against hers. There was no guarantee that Ron and Hermione would even believe him.

The only way that Harry could think of convincing them was to do something that he should have done months ago. He needed to tell them the truth - that he was gay and in love with Draco.

Harry realised bitterly that if only he had been upfront from the start, then most of this heartbreak could have been avoided. He had expected to be given the benefit of the doubt by his best friends, when, in truth, he had been lying to them for months.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey bringing his lunch. He sat up in bed as a table was slid over it, bearing a tray filled with food.

"Make sure you eat it all, Mr Potter. You need to put some weight on; you're practically skin and bones."

Harry just nodded his agreement. He thought it was a slight exaggeration, but he hadn't eaten properly for days. The trauma of the break up with Draco had successfully killed his appetite and, after years with the Dursleys, his body had become more than accustomed to going without food for days at a time.

Madam Pomfrey watched as he ate eagerly, a look of grim satisfaction on her face. "I have spoken to the Headmistress about your...problem, Mr Potter."

Harry tensed slightly at this news; he had known, realistically, that Professor McGonagall would have to be informed, but that didn't make it sit any easier. However, he could see that the school matron looked as uncomfortable with the conversation as he was, so he smiled slightly in acknowledgement of her words.

"I have suggested, and she has agreed, that you need more specialised help than I can offer you here. So we have arranged for a Psyche Healer from St Mungo's to come and speak with you."

Harry nodded. He could just hear his uncle Vernon's sneering comments about 'nutters' and 'shrinks' in the back of his mind, but he tried hard to ignore them. He was resigned to the fact that he would have to talk about it, but he had rather hoped to keep his secrets within the small group who already knew them. The last thing he needed was for news of his 'problems' to make front page of the _Prophet._

As if reading his mind, Madam Pomfrey spoke again. "Anything that you discuss will be between the two of you. Psyche Healers are bound by their oath, almost like an Unbreakable Vow, which prevents them from divulging their patient's details."

Harry visibly relaxed at this news.

"Healer Malory will be here this afternoon and, provided he is in agreement, we should have you released by dinner this evening."

"Thank you." Harry tried his best to sound grateful; he still wasn't looking forward to seeing his friends again. "I'm sorry to be such trouble."

Madam Pomfrey's face softened at his words. "Nonsense," she said, gruffly. "You just worry about getting yourself well." She patted him on the shoulder gently, before turning to leave. She got several paces away from the bed before stopping and turning back to him.

Harry looked at her expectantly. "Mr Malfoy was here earlier. He was most concerned to know how you were."

Harry blushed slightly. "Really?"

"Yes. I never thought I'd see the day that he was worried about you. Time was, he would have been the one who put you in here."

Harry smiled wryly; he couldn't argue with that.

"I believe he will be back later to see you. Most insistent upon it, he was."

Harry didn't miss the knowing twinkle in her eyes before she turned away. It seemed to him that another one of his secrets wasn't so secret anymore. Not that he minded this one; he had already made up his mind that it was time everyone knew about him and Draco, regardless of the fallout.

* * *

"Yes, Pansy, I've got it. I've already told you that repeatedly. Now stop fussing, for Merlin's sake."

"I'm just making sure," Pansy huffed. "I know what you're like."

Harry grinned to himself at the sound of their friendly bickering. He was perched on the edge of his hospital bed, still dressed in his pyjamas. He was feeling fairly washed out after spending several hours with the Psyche Healer, but felt that it had been time well spent.

Draco and Pansy made their way over to his bed. "You good to go, Harry?" Pansy enquired.

Harry nodded. "Yep, I'm all set to go." He looked down at his outfit. "Though I could do with some clothes. I don't fancy walking back to Gryffindor tower in my pyjamas."

Draco dropped a bag on the bed, smiling smugly. "I had Longbottom sort you out some clothes. I figured you weren't ready for the world to see you in your jammies, just yet!"

Harry picked the bag up gratefully. "Thanks. I won't be a minute." With that, he disappeared behind a nearby screen.

"What's wrong with changing out here?" Draco pouted, and then spotted a grinning Pansy. "On second thoughts, stay where you are."

"Spoilsport," Pansy teased. "How did it go this afternoon, Harry?"

"How did you know about that?" Harry asked, his voice muffled by the jumper he was pulling over his head.

"I saw Healer Malory on his way up here. I remembered him from when I was in St Mungo's, and I figured he was on his way to see you. How did it go?"

Harry appeared from around the screen. "Umm, okay, I think. Yeah, it was good. It's a little weird talking to a complete stranger about really personal stuff, but he makes you feel really at ease."

"Madam Pomfrey wants me to see him as well," Pansy said casually.

Draco turned to look at her in surprise. "You never mentioned that to me. I didn't know you'd even told her about...you know?"

"You can say the words, Draco, I don't mind. I didn't tell her, not really. She guessed and I just confirmed it."

"That's good, Pansy," Harry commented. "I wasn't that keen on the idea, but I think it might actually help." He folded his pyjamas and stuffed them in the bag.

"I'm ready."

Draco looked a little nervous and Harry watched him curiously. He reached out and took hold of his hand. "What is it?"

"We thought..." Pansy coughed and Draco amended his words. "I thought, that maybe you would come back to Slytherin with us, rather than going back to Gryffindor."

Harry smiled to himself; it wasn't often he got to see Draco this uncertain of himself. He leant forward and gently kissed his boyfriend's lips. "I'd like that."

"Really?" Draco looked at him hopefully; he had honestly expected his suggestion to be rebuffed.

"Really. To be honest, I wasn't much looking forward to going back there anyway. Not since..." Harry trailed off here, but both Slytherins knew what he meant.

Pansy reached out and took hold of his hand. "Neville hasn't said anything, if that's what you're worried about. I told him not to, but I don't think he would have anyway."

Harry relaxed visibly at this and gave a small smile. "C'mon," he said. "Let's go."

Draco ushered Harry through the Slytherin common room, barely giving him chance to acknowledge the wary greetings that came his way. Pansy bid them farewell at the entrance to the boys' dormitory, and Draco tugged Harry inside.

Once in the room, Harry couldn't help but remember the last time he had been in here. He shuddered slightly at the memory of Draco's anger and the cruel words he had said. Intellectually he knew that his boyfriend had just been lashing out, trying to hurt him in the way he perceived that he, himself, had been hurt. But it was still so fresh in his mind.

Noticing this, Draco stepped closer to Harry and wrapped his arms snugly around his boyfriend's waist. "If I could take it back," he said remorsefully.

"I know," Harry answered. "I get why you did it. It will just take a little while for me to forget."

"I'm so sorry, Harry. Really I am. If I could just-"

Draco's words were cut off as Harry leant in and captured his lips in a bruising kiss. There was so much emotion behind it that Draco readily opened his mouth, needing the reassurance that Harry was providing.

When they pulled apart, Harry placed one hand on Draco's chin and slowly traced his swollen lips with his thumb. He gave another small smile and followed it up with a soft kiss. "Not tonight," he whispered, his breath ghosting over Draco's skin.

Draco looked at him questioningly, uncertain as to what he referred.

"We've got a lot to talk about, I know that. We can't just go right back to how we were...before."

Draco's heart sank at these words; he knew they were true, but just hearing Harry say them made him fearful. Harry pulled him into a warm embrace, nuzzling into his neck, his hands tracing soothing circles on the blond's back.

"Trust has to be rebuilt, on both sides," Harry continued, and Draco nodded in understanding. "But not right now," Harry breathed. "Right now, I just want to be doing this."

Draco pulled back and looked at Harry, his face a mixture of nervousness and hope. "What?" he asked, unsure if he wanted the answer.

In reply, Harry took hold of his hand and pulled him in the direction of the bed. "I just want to hold you, and kiss you and be near you. I came so close to losing you, and I don't want to let you go ever again."

* * *

When Draco woke the next morning, with Harry curled up against his side, he gazed down at his boyfriend and gently brushed the messy dark hair back from his eyes. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the sight of Harry, his Harry, in his bed, back in his arms.

Draco knew he didn't really deserve the second chance that Harry had given him, but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He would take that chance with both hands and make damn sure that Harry never regretted it.

They had gone no farther than kissing and cuddling the night before, but Draco had felt closer to his boyfriend in that time, than he had ever felt to any other person at any point in his life. A small smile playing on his lips, he tilted his head and kissed Harry's forehead softly.

Beautiful green eyes fluttered open and gazed at him lovingly. "Morning," Harry said, his voice still croaky from sleep.

Draco smiled. "Morning," he answered, before his gaze turned more intense. "No regrets?" he had to ask.

"Plenty," Harry replied, and in that moment Draco felt his heart stop. "But none about you," he finished teasingly.

Draco lowered his mouth and lightly nipped Harry's neck. "Git," he accused playfully. "Nearly gave me a heart attack. You'll pay for that."

Harry chuckled. "As much as I'd like to stay here and have you make me _pay,_ we have exactly thirty minutes until lessons start."

Draco looked with horror at his watch. "Shit! I won't even have time for a shower or anything."

"'S okay," Harry replied lazily. "I'll still love you, even if you do stink!"

Draco grimaced at his boyfriend and then followed it up with a pout. "But I was hoping we could take a shower together," he whined.

Harry had already got up and was now looking at the empty beds in the room. "What happened to the others? I don't remember hearing them come in last night, and it doesn't look like their beds have been slept in."

Draco flushed a little. "I wanted last night to be just us," he explained. "Blaise is up in Gryffindor with Longbottom, and Theo's in the girls' dorm with Tracey."

Harry reached out his hands and pulled his boyfriend to his feet. "You're so sweet," he murmured, lightly kissing his lips, and for once, Draco made no protest.

The two boys got dressed in record time and were up in the Great Hall ten minutes later. Harry paused on the threshold, nervously. Draco placed a hand on the small of his back. "Don't worry," he reassured. "No one knows anything about it."

Harry leant back for a moment, revelling in the support of the warm body behind him. Then, taking a deep breath, he entered the Great Hall with Draco at his side.

The noise level in the Hall dropped noticeably as they made their way over to the Slytherin table, and neither boy missed the numerous looks that were sent in their direction. Harry initially supposed it down to the surprise of seeing them together again, after such a public falling out. Then, as he seated himself at the table and the stares continued, he began to suspect that his recent trip to the hospital wing hadn't remained as secret as he had hoped. He reached for Draco's hand under the table.

"Ignore them," Draco murmured. "They'll get bored of it soon enough."

"I'm not so sure about that, Draco," Pansy commented, looking worriedly at them from over the top of her copy of the _Daily Prophet._ Wordlessly, she passed the paper over into his outstretched hand. Draco took it apprehensively, worried that somehow news of Harry's problems had become public. He could feel the other boy tense at his side as he unfolded the paper.

The headline, in big, bold, black letters, was not what he feared it would be, but it certainly explained the intense scrutiny of the rest of the student body. Draco passed the paper to Harry and watched worriedly as his boyfriend read the headline, which screamed:

**'Gay-Boy Who Lived!'**

Filling the rest of the front page was a picture of Harry and Draco that had been taken at the Manor over Christmas. Harry was lying with his head in Draco's lap while the blond petted his hair. The image ran just long enough for the viewer to see Harry curl his hand round the back of Draco's neck and pull him down for a long, deep kiss.

An array of emotions warred in Harry's mind as he tried to process the implications of this. Panic was his first reaction, but then he calmly reminded himself that he had already decided to come out to everyone anyway, so this had just saved him the job. His next emotion was worry over how Draco would take the revelation. One quick look at his boyfriend reassured him that Draco's only concern was for him.

His last, and most overriding emotion was anger. Pansy had taken this picture of the two of them during the holidays, and she had then given it to Harry as a Christmas present. As far as he knew, that was the only copy, which meant that someone had been through his belongings and stolen it from him.

Draco sat and watched the emotions running over his boyfriend's face. He was certainly shocked by the article, and, if he was honest, this was not exactly the way he had wanted the news of their relationship to come out. But, apart from that, he really wasn't that bothered. The people who mattered to him already knew about his relationship with Harry, and they had all, in varying degrees, accepted it. Truth was, he wanted nothing more than to be able to show the world just how important Harry was to him

However, he knew how reluctant Harry had been to tell people about them, and considering the emotional turmoil that the Gryffindor boy had been through in the last few days, he wanted nothing more than to practice a few Unforgivables on the person behind this article – and he had a damned good idea of who that was.

Harry looked up from the paper and realised that the eyes of almost the entire Hall were on him and Draco. In a weird way he was grateful to the article. He remembered how hard it had been for him to psyche himself up to telling Ron and Hermione last time; if he had to do it again, he didn't think he could handle the nerves right now. The decision had now been taken out of his hand, and he couldn't help but feel relieved to some extent.

Harry looked from the curious faces of his school mates, to the concerned face of his boyfriend, and, without thinking further, he leant closer into Draco's body and swiftly pressed their lips together. When Draco's lips parted in an astonished gasp, Harry took advantage and swiftly slid his tongue into the blond's mouth.

For those few, brief, delicious moments, both boys forgot about their large audience. When Harry finally pulled away, a sheepish expression on his face, it was to the sound of raucous cheering and wolf-whistles, led, in the main, by Pansy, Blaise and the rest of Slytherin house.

Draco watched in smug satisfaction as Ginny Weasley stood up from her seat, face white with rage, and stormed out of the Great Hall. That pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He trailed his eyes a little further down the Gryffindor table to where Granger and the Weasel were sat. He allowed a broad grin to cross his face at the sight of the stunned expressions on the faces of Harry's oldest friends.

Emboldened by Harry and Draco's daring statement, Blaise turned to his own boyfriend, a wicked gleam in his eyes. To the further astonishment of most of Hogwarts, he pulled Neville against him and quickly crushed their lips together.

Both Harry and Draco laughed loudly as Ron's gobsmacked, "Bloody hell," broke the stunned silence in the Hall.


	56. So You Don't Like Girls Then?

There was very little time for the student body to process their reactions to the two very public 'outings' that occurred at breakfast. Blaise and Neville had barely broken apart before the tables were cleared, and the teachers began shooing the stunned students towards their first class.

Harry tried desperately to catch Ron and Hermione's attention, keen to see their reactions. Draco saw his concern and took hold of his hand with a gentle squeeze. Harry leant in slightly, seeking comfort from the warmth of his boyfriend's body.

"Well," Pansy said, breaking the silence. "I'll bet that was the most interesting breakfast that Hogwarts has seen in some time. I never knew you were such an exhibitionist, Harry."

Harry smiled shakily; now that the adrenalin was fading, the shock of what he had done was starting to hit home. Draco looked at his boyfriend's pale face.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I guess it was just a bit of a shock, you know?" There was a definite quaver in his voice, and Draco wasn't fooled for a moment. He turned to Pansy.

"You guys go on ahead. Harry and I will catch you up."

Pansy raised an eyebrow in question, but seeing the look on Draco's face, she nodded and followed on after Blaise and Neville.

Draco unceremoniously tugged Harry in the direction of the nearest door. It was only when the slam of the wood echoed in the darkness, that he realised he had chosen the cleaning cupboard. Never one to waste an opportunity, Draco promptly pulled Harry towards him, wrapping his arms comfortingly around his tense boyfriend.

In the gloomy cupboard, his lips quickly sought out Harry's, and gave light, teasing kisses. As Draco slid his tongue between Harry's eagerly parted lips, searching for its counterpart, he could feel the tension flee the other boy's body.

Harry's hands buried in Draco's hair, twining the silken strands between his fingers. A low, needy moan sounded deep in his throat and echoed in Draco's mouth. Only the vague realisation of where they were kept Draco from ravishing his boyfriend on the spot.

It had been over a week since they had last been this intimate, and the soft whimpers coming from Harry aroused a maelstrom of emotions within the blond.

After several minutes of leisurely snogging, Draco pulled back reluctantly. "Better?" he asked huskily.

Harry leant his forehead against Draco's. "Much," he sighed. "I could stay like this all day."

Draco kissed the tip of his nose. "As tempting as that is, I doubt Filch would be too impressed to find us here." He took hold of Harry's hand and pulled him towards the door. "C'mon. We don't want to be too late for class."

Once outside in the Entrance Hall, Draco turned to look at his boyfriend and was pleased to see a look of contentment on his face, all worries had been banished for the moment.

"What are you looking so smug about?" Harry teased, smiling lazily.

Draco cupped his chin and traced his kiss-swollen lips with his thumb. "Just admiring my handiwork."

"Git," Harry accused affectionately, leaning into the touch.

Draco smiled for a moment before his expression became more serious. "Are you really okay about this?"

"Case of having to be, isn't it?" Harry responded wryly. Then, noticing Draco's eyes drift in the direction of his arm, he reached out and clasped the blond's hand. "I'm fine, honest. Maybe I would have preferred to tell Ron and Hermione first, but it's actually a relief, to tell the truth."

He squeezed Draco's hand gently. "I'm glad that we don't have to hide anymore."

* * *

Lessons that day were an interesting experience. It seemed that most of their classmates, and even some of their professors were entirely thrown by that morning's revelations.

It wasn't as bad as Harry had initially feared, and the news of Blaise and Neville's relationship seemed to have taken the heat off a little.

Throughout the course of the day, he kept shooting discreet glances in Ron and Hermione's direction, trying desperately to gauge their reactions. He no longer feared rejection based on his sexuality; George's Christmas revelation had already proved that his friends were no homophobes.

But there was still the obstacle of his choice of partner to overcome, and the fact that he had kept it all a secret from them for months.

Harry was hopeful that their friendship would remain intact. On catching his searching looks, Hermione had responded with small, encouraging smiles, while Ron…well, Ron just looked bewildered. There was such a look of confusion on his friend's face that Harry had to bite back a laugh. Draco, however, felt no such compunction.

"Don't look now, but I think Weasley is about to have an aneurysm."

Harry couldn't have looked even if he had tried, as Draco currently had him pressed up against the wall outside the Potions classroom, intent on making as many public declarations of their relationship as possible.

"For goodness sake, you two. Get a room"

Draco pulled back at this and Harry spotted Pansy's amused face grinning back at him. He smiled sheepishly. "Hey, Pansy."

"Not that I don't appreciate the sight of Draco's tongue in your mouth, but Potions is about to start."

Harry turned and spotted Professor Slughorn waiting in the doorway, smiling indulgently in their direction. Harry flushed. "Sorry, Sir." Draco only smirked and followed his two friends into class.

Professor Slughorn stood at the front of the class, beaming. "Right, now that our two lovebirds have joined us, let's turn to page ninety six in the text book."

Harry turned to the section on Pain Relieving Potions, trying to ignore the snickers of his classmates.

He spent most of the lesson trying to build up the courage to speak to Ron and Hermione. Harry had hoped that they would hear about Draco from him, rather that the Daily Prophet, but now that the decision had been taken out of his hands, he felt that he at least owed them an explanation.

Fortunately, his friends seemed to be of a similar mind, and he found Hermione waiting patiently for him after class let out.

"Harry, do you have a minute?"

Harry felt Draco tense at his side. "It's okay," he murmured. "You go on; I'll catch up with you in a bit." Draco looked at him questioningly, and Harry gave a reassuring nod. The blond shot a brief warning glance at the other Gryffindors before turning and leaving.

Harry smiled tentatively at Hermione and walked over to her, spotting Ron lurking several paces behind her. "Hi," he said cautiously, wary of the response he would get.

"Protective, isn't he?" Hermione said with a smile, and a small nod in the direction of a retreating Draco.

Harry couldn't quite suppress the goofy grin that crossed his face. "Yeah, he is."

There was an uncomfortable silence then, with neither friend sure exactly of how to begin.

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted out, when the silence became oppressive.

Hermione looked surprised but let him continue.

"I should have told you. I didn't want you to find out like that. I was going to tell you last weekend, but…well, you know what happened." Harry scuffed the toe of his shoe along the ground, not quite able to meet his friend's gaze, for fear of what he might see there.

"Yes, I remember," Hermione agreed. "Although, this revelation does put rather a different light on it," she added thoughtfully.

"I'd like the chance to explain, to both of you," Harry said earnestly, casting a nervous glance in Ron's direction.

"Oh, Harry. Of course we will." She laid her hand on his arm. "Don't worry about Ron. I think he's still in shock from seeing you kiss Malfoy."

Harry nodded. "How about after dinner? But not in the tower, though," he added quickly. "There are too many people, and I really don't want to see…"

"Ginny," Hermione finished for him. "That's understandable," she agreed. "We could use Hagrid's hut. I heard that he's gone to see Madam Maxime for a few days, so it'll be empty. I'm sure he wouldn't mind us using it."

"Okay, yes. I'll see you both then. I better get going. I'm supposed to meet Draco in the library."

"I never thought I'd see you keen to go to the library, Harry. I think I approve of this relationship already," Hermione couldn't resist teasing.

Harry shot her a warm grin of relief, before heading off in search of his boyfriend.

He felt infinitely better after that conversation, and the weight of guilt he had felt at deceiving his friends, lightened at last. He was still apprehensive about Ron's reaction, but knowing that he had Hermione on side was enough to assure him that the redhead would come round eventually.

Harry spent the last period of the day studying in the library with Draco and Pansy. Now that things were finally starting to resolve themselves, he felt able to return his focus back to the work he had neglected for the last week or so.

He tried to avoid thinking about Ginny as much as possible. Besides the anger he felt towards her, there was also this overwhelming sense of confusion. Ginny had a temper, he know that, much like Ron's. But the spite in her recent behaviour was something new.

Sure, he knew she had been upset that he hadn't wanted to resume their relationship after the war, but nothing that had happened could explain to him the sheer malice that she was exhibiting towards him.

Harry could sort of see the twisted logic behind, what he now termed as the 'Polyjuice incident'. But he was baffled by what she had hoped to gain from outing him in the manner she had. He could only assume that it was an action calculated to hurt him. After all, she had to know now that there was no hope of them ever getting back together.

The irony was, that in her attempt to humiliate him in the eyes of the wizarding public, she had actually done him a favour. By taking the decision out of his hands, she had given him what he most desired; the chance to be open about his relationship, to show everyone just how much Draco meant to him. And, for the most part, the reaction of the rest of the student body seemed to be positive.

Of course, there was some staring, and a few brave souls who pointed at them - which was only to be expected. But amongst his friends, Harry had yet to receive a negative reaction.

* * *

Harry waited nervously outside the Great Hall after dinner. Draco had offered to come with him when he spoke to Ron and Hermione, but Harry had declined, suspecting that his presence may make things more tense where Ron was concerned.

As he saw his friends approaching, Harry noted that Ron still wore a slightly bemused expression as Hermione pulled him along behind her.

"Hi, Harry. You ready?"

Harry nodded; at least Hermione seemed her usual self. The three friends made their way out of the main doors and across the grounds in silence. Once inside Hagrid's hut, Hermione took control and seated them around the table.

She cast a quick Cleaning Charm on the dirty surface and then produced three bottles of butterbeer from her bag.

"I asked Winky for them," she said, by way of explanation.

Harry took a bottle, grateful to have something to occupy his hands. He picked nervously at the label as he tried to work out what to say first. He looked up and met the intense gazes of both his friends.

"I should have told you, I know that."

"Would've been nice if you'd mentioned it. Not like we were best friends or anything."

"I know, Ron, and I'm sorry. It's just; it took me a while to accept that I was…"

"Gay?" Hermione offered.

"Yes, gay. All I'd ever wanted was to blend in, be normal, and I thought that after Voldemort, that maybe I could have that. Then, this happened, and it was just another thing to make me stand out, you know?"

Hermione nodded in understanding, but Ron kept his eyes fixed on the table.

"It wasn't even about that to start with - me and Draco. We were just friends, and then things…well, they changed. Obviously. But we weren't exactly getting on well at the time, so I didn't say anything. And then, the longer I left it, the harder it was to say." Harry paused and took a deep gulp of his drink.

"How long have you known?" Hermione asked, taking advantage of the silence.

"Not long. Just since the end of the summer."

"And you really had no idea before that?" Harry spotted the familiar glint in his friend's eyes. It was a look that said a million and one questions would follow if he didn't head her off.

"No." He shook his head. "None at all."

"So you don't like girls then?" Ron asked, still sounding somewhat confused.

Harry smiled despite himself. "I like girls fine, Ron. Just not in the same way that you do."

"But you were dating Parkinson, weren't you?"

"Pansy and I are friends, good friends, but there was never anything romantic between us. It was just easier to let people think what they wanted, cos I wasn't ready for them to know the real truth." Harry drained the rest of his butterbeer and sat back in his chair. "So what do you think?" He addressed the question to both of them, but his eyes were fixed on Ron, who squirmed under the intense gaze.

"Well, I won't say it isn't a shock, but if it's what you want-"

"It is," Harry stated firmly.

"Then I'm okay with it," Ron said, finally meeting his friend's gaze.

"You're not angry?" Harry asked curiously.

"Why would I be angry? I don't have a problem with you being gay; it's no big deal."

With Ron's words, Harry felt all of his tension drain away. "But you were so pissed off when Draco and I became friends."

Ron dismissed his words with a wave of his hand. "That's different."

"How?" A voice at the back of his mind was screaming at Harry to shut up, to just take his friend's acceptance and not question it. But he had to know why.

"It just is," Ron replied stubbornly. "Being someone's friend is a conscious decision, a choice. But you don't get to decide who you fall in love with."

Hermione beamed with pride at her boyfriend's words. "Well said, Ronald."

"Love?" Harry squeaked. "Who said anything about love?" This conversation was going in a direction that he wasn't prepared for.

Ron just grinned back at him. "Harry, mate, I've seen the picture. The way you're looking at Malfoy, it's like he hung the bloody moon, or something."

Hermione gave him a sharp dig for his language but Ron ignored it and carried on. "And Malfoy's as bad. He looks like all his Christmases have come at once."

Harry flushed slightly. He really wasn't comfortable talking about this with Ron, of all people. "So you really don't mind?" he repeated, incredulously.

"Are you happy?" Hermione decided to take a hand in the conversation.

"Yes." Harry's answer was emphatic.

"Then that's all we care about."

Harry looked from Hermione, to Ron, questioningly, and was relieved when the redhead nodded his agreement.

"I guess this means that Malfoy is going to be around for a while, then?"

"It's Draco, and yes, a long while."

Ron shrugged. "I guess I can learn to live with that. I just always thought you'd end up marrying Ginny and become part of the family for real. Of course, if anything goes wrong with you and Malfoy, there's always George. He's gay too."

"Honestly, Ron. Just because they're both gay, doesn't automatically mean that Harry would fancy him. Right, Harry?"

Harry flushed a bright red and muttered something entirely unintelligible, guilt written all over his face.

Realising what this meant, Hermione burst out laughing, adding to Harry's discomfort. It took Ron a little while longer to add two and two together, but by the time he got four, a horrified look spread over his face.

"So, you really don't like girls," Ron said finally.

"No, Ron," Harry replied patiently. "I really don't."

"So what was all that about with Ginny last week?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably; this was the part of the conversation that he really wasn't looking forward to.

"It wasn't you, was it?" Hermione said shrewdly.

Harry sagged visibly with relief. "No, it really wasn't."

"But we saw," Ron protested.

"It must have been Polyjuice, or something. Draco thinks that it was Wayne Hopkins really."

Ron opened his mouth, ready to argue this point, but Hermione beat him to it. "It makes sense, when you think about it," she said thoughtfully, turning to face her boyfriend. "Come on, Ron. Ginny's obsessed with Harry, even you've said so yourself. We know it was definitely here therefore, so who else would she be able to convince to pose as Harry? Don't you think it was a little odd that he didn't seem bothered by Ginny supposedly cheating on him?"

"I guess," Ron replied uncertainly. "But I don't get what the point was."

"To break Harry and Pansy up."

"But they're not-"

"We know that now," Hermione interrupted. "But at the time we thought they were together. Just like Ginny did."

Ron looked at Harry with a stricken expression. "I hit you," he blurted out.

"Yeah," Harry said, touching his jaw. "I remember. That's one hell of a punch you've got."

"Shit! I'm really sorry. I thought…"

"It's okay, Ron. I'm just glad that we're okay. We are, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we're good. I can't believe my sister did that."

"That's not all she's done," Harry muttered darkly.

"What?" Hermione demanded, sitting forward in her chair.

"That picture in the paper. Someone stole that from out of my trunk and sent it to the Prophet."

"And you think it was Ginny?"

"I can't prove it, but I'm certain it was."

Hermione nodded. "I think you're probably right. Though I can't imagine what she hoped to gain from it though."

"Revenge," Ron muttered. "Mum will have a fit when she hears about this."

"I think we need to keep an eye on her," Hermione suggested. "If Ginny really is out for revenge, for whatever perceived slight, then she'll know soon enough that it has backfired. So she'll probably try again."

The three friends looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

* * *

"Draco! If you don't sit still, I'm going to bind you to that chair. That's the second time you've made me spill my ink." Pansy looked up from her work and shot her friend a dark glare.

"You're the one who insisted that I come with you. I told you I wasn't in the mood for the library, but would you listen?"

Pansy snapped her book shut with such force that she drew a disapproving glare from Madam Pince. She began bundling her belongings together. "Come on, then. This was clearly a bad idea."

Draco looked a little startled. "Where to?"

"Somewhere. Anywhere. I'm obviously not going to get any work done tonight. So I may as well give it up as a bad job."

Pansy hoisted her bag on to her shoulder and stared at Draco expectantly. "Well, come on. I thought you didn't want to be here?"

Draco scraped his chair back and got to his feet, following his friend towards the exit. Pansy waited for him by the doors, her expression now softened.

"Look, I know you're worried about Harry, but he'll be fine." She linked her arm through his and smiled encouragingly.

Draco didn't look convinced so Pansy tried again. "Those three have been friends since forever. Granger and Weasley aren't about to turn their backs on him just because he's gay."

"I know that, Pansy. After all, one of the Weasel's brothers is gay. It's me."

"What's you?"

"I'm the reason they'll turn against him. They might not mind that their best friend is a shirt-lifter, but d'you really think that they'll be okay with him dating an ex Death Eater? And a Malfoy at that?"

"Draco, the only Death Eater in your family was your father, so I sincerely hope that's not true."

"Don't be obtuse. You know what I meant."

Pansy nodded slowly. "I do, but I don't like you talking about yourself that way. You know Harry doesn't care about any of that stuff. Do you actually think he'll turn his back on you just because Weasley spits his dummy out?"

Draco shook his head emphatically. "No. I know he wouldn't do that. I know that if the Weasel forces him the chose, that he'll lose. But it will hurt Harry and I don't want that. The last thing he needs right now is more stress."

Pansy shook her head again. "Granger's not stupid. A blind man could see how much in love you two are. She's not going to try to come between that. And Weasley, well, he might bluster a bit, but at the end of the day, he'll do what his girlfriend says. Granger clearly wears the trousers in that relationship."

Draco shrugged. "I guess. I'm just worried that they'll put some kind of guilt trip on him over the She-Weasel. You know what a sucker for a sob story Harry is."

"I wouldn't worry about that. Ginny Weasley has well and truly burnt her bridges where Harry is concerned." Pansy paused here as they reached the common room entrance. "It's only natural for you to worry, but you can't wrap him up in cotton wool. Harry's going to have to learn new coping mechanisms, but he won't be able to do that if you try and shelter him."

The door to the common room appeared and the two friends entered. Eschewing the gathering of their friends round the fire, Draco led the way into his unoccupied dormitory. He flopped down onto the bed with a sigh and then patted the mattress at the side of him invitingly.

Pansy sank down next to him and promptly found Draco's head in her lap. He took hold of her hand and placed it on his head, in a none-too-subtle hint.

"So," he began, as Pansy's fingers feathered through his hair. "If I can't worry about Harry, can I at least worry about you?"

Pansy chuckled. "Would it stop you if I said no?"

"Not in the slightest. But it's only polite to ask first."

Pansy ruffled his hair affectionately. "Arse," she murmured.

"When have you got to see that Psych Healer?" Draco asked, his tone suddenly serious.

"Monday. I have to see him just after Harry does."

"Do you think it'll help?"

"Well, it can't hurt."

"I should hope not, but that wasn't what I asked," Draco retorted sharply.

Pansy let out a sigh and her hand ceased its movements. "I honestly don't know. Madam Pomfrey says he has an excellent reputation; he's the best there is. But the thing is, with this sort of treatment, they can only help you as much as they are allowed to. You have to want to be helped."

"Harry does, though, doesn't he?" Draco asked quickly, his voice showing a hint of uncertainty.

"Yes," Pansy said firmly. "He wants to get well, and that's half the battle."

"What about you?" Draco questioned, butting his head gently against her hand, a non-verbal request for the resumption of petting.

"Demanding creature," she teased lightly, brushing the golden strands back off his face. "I want it too," she added softly.

"Good." Draco's eyelids fluttered shut and he burrowed deeper into Pansy's lap.

"Why don't you get into bed? I don't imagine you've had much sleep the last couple of nights. And I know that Harry said he was stopping up in Gryffindor tonight."

Draco rolled onto his back, cracked one sleepy eye open and looked up at his friend. "Want to sleep over?" he asked, a rare moment of vulnerability showing.

Pansy pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "Sure." She smiled and eased off the bed. "Let me just go and get changed."

"Make sure you put something decent on, Parkinson. I've seen some of those outfits that you call nightclothes. Just you remember that I'm taken, and therefore immune to your feminine wiles."

"Oh," Pansy said, an innocent look on her face. "So this isn't one of those naked sleepovers then?"

"You wish, Parkinson," Draco returned, but the door had already closed behind Pansy, almost masking the sound of her laughter.

* * *

Harry woke early that morning and found he felt better than he had in a long time. Not even the memory of the previous day's Daily Prophet's headlines could dampen his good mood.

He and Draco were getting back on track, and Ron and Hermione had proved surprisingly accepting of his relationship. The only blot on the horizon was Ginny. But Harry was determined to let it go. By remaining angry, or seeking vengeance, he was giving Ginny and her actions an importance that they did not deserve.

Those who were important to him knew the truth now, and that was all that mattered. It was sad that it had come to this, but Harry wasn't going to allow her any further power over his life.

Seeing that his roommates were still sleeping peacefully, he slipped out of bed quietly, gathered up his towel, and headed into the bathroom.

As the jets of hot water washed the suds from his body, Harry couldn't help but examine the fading scars on his forearm. He no longer wore his Glamour to hide the evidence of his problem. Psych Healer Mallory had told him that this was an important step in his recovery; he had to face up to what he had done.

After only one session, Harry was already feeling infinitely better about the issues that haunted him. As difficult as it had been for him to open up and talk to a complete stranger about his past, once he had gotten over that initial hurdle, the words had just seemed to flow.

The sounds of his roommates moving around pulled Harry from his reverie. He shut off the water, roughly towelled himself dry and then returned to his dorm. After quickly dressing and exchanging pleasantries with his friends, he headed off downstairs to the common room.

Ron and Hermione were already up and waiting form him on one of the large, squashy sofas. They got to their feet upon seeing him approach.

"Blimey, mate," Ron grumbled. "I thought you were never coming down."

Harry looked at his watch. "It's barely seven-thirty."

Ron shot his girlfriend a baleful glare. "I know. Only someone has me scheduled in for half an hour of NEWT revision before breakfast. And now, I'm starving."

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione huffed.

Harry couldn't help but grin as they made their way down to the Great Hall together; it felt almost like old times.

They passed Ginny on the way and Harry couldn't help but feel pleased at her confused and angry expression, as she saw the united front the three of them presented. There could not have been clearer proof that her plot had failed, than Ron's acceptance of both Harry's sexuality, and his relationship.

Apparently, Ginny had underestimated her brother. Harry would have felt smug about this, had it not been for the little voice reminding him that he had, too.

* * *

Draco had been out of bed at the crack of dawn, much to Pansy's chagrin. He found it impossible to remain in bed, when all he could do was worry about Harry, and his friends' reactions.

He spent his entire shower plotting the various, unpleasant hexes that he would use on the Weasel if he had upset Harry further.

Once dressed, Draco paced restlessly across the common room, his eyes flicking repeatedly to his watch. Finally, he gave in and headed off alone towards the Great Hall.

With the exception of a few overzealous Ravenclaws, Draco found the Great Hall empty. Instead of assuming his usual place at the Slytherin table, he camped out in the Entrance Hall, determined to catch up with Harry.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long, as Harry appeared minutes later, accompanied by his friends. As he watched them cross the Hall, Draco wasn't sure what to feel. His emotions ran the gamut from sheer happiness at the relaxed look on Harry's face, to overwhelming jealousy at the sign of the Golden Trio reunited once more.

Draco shook his head and mentally chastised himself for that last emotion. Pull yourself together, Draco. Harry loves you. There's no need to feel jealous.

"Granger. Weasley," he acknowledged neutrally as the group reached him. He turned to face Harry, his expression suddenly warmer. "Are you okay?" He didn't want to ask, not in front of the other two, but Draco couldn't take not knowing for a moment longer.

Harry leant in and gave him a quick peck. "Yes, I'm fine. More than fine, actually."

As if to further confirm this, Hermione cleared her throat. "Why don't you join us for breakfast, Draco? See what the world looks like from the other side of the Great Hall."

Draco really wanted to say no. A Malfoy at the Gryffindor table was unthinkable. But Granger, Hermione, was clearly making an effort. And even Weasley nodded his agreement; something Draco knew had to be killing the redhead inside. As if that wasn't enough, there was such a hopeful expression on Harry's face that Draco found he no longer wanted to refuse.

"Thank you, Hermione," he replied carefully. "I'd be delighted."

The look on Pansy's face when she entered the Hall and spied Draco was priceless. But the expression of shock quickly morphed into one of approval, and soon her and Blaise were heading across the room and squeezing themselves in amongst the Gryffindors.

Neville beamed, almost as broadly as Harry, when Blaise slid in next to him. Draco noticed a flicker of something cross over Weasleys face at the sudden influx of Slytherins, but it was quickly suppressed. Draco found himself in the uncomfortable position of almost admiring the redhead's self-control in a situation, that had the roles been reversed, Draco wasn't sure he could have managed.

Conversation was a little stilted to begin with, but Draco soon engaged Hermione in an involved discussion of their latest Arithmancy homework.

Ron looked from them, to Harry, and grimaced. "Malfoy's like a male Hermione. We're dating geeks," he said, in horrified tones.

Harry looked at the two heads, one blond and one frizzy, that were currently bent over the large book that Hermione had produced from Merlin only knew where. He turned back to face Ron, smiling warmly.

"I know. But look at it this way, at least now they'll talk to each other about that stuff, instead of expecting us to care, and getting mad when we don't."

Ron's expression lightened at this, seeing for the first time a positive outcome of Harry's relationship with Malfoy.

At this point, Pansy accosted Draco's attention with a sharp nudge. He looked in the direction of her furtive nod, and found himself watching Ginny Weasley, sat at the Hufflepuff table, a smoking red envelope flailing about on the surface in front of her.

As most of the school knew Molly Weasley's Howlers of old, a small exclusion zone had opened up around the nervous-looking redhead. Even Wayne Hopkins, her supposed boyfriend, had scooted a short distance away from her.

With a defiant glare at those nearest to her, Ginny reached out and snatched up the missive.

The eyes of those around him were now fixed on the Hufflepuff table also, and Draco noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Weasley had already stuffed his fingers into his ears, whilst suppressing a faint shudder.

Mrs Weasley's voice filled the Great Hall with a deafening roar, and even Ginny's defiance quailed before her mother's wrath.

"GINEVRA WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU BEHAVE IN SUCH A DESPICABLE MANNER TO HARRY? AFTER EVERYTHING HE HAD DONE FOR YOU, FOR THIS FAMILY."

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat at this, and the remainder of the school were torn between watching the unfolding drama at the usually quiet Hufflepuff table, and craning their necks in Harry's direction to watch his reactions.

"I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BEHAVE IN SUCH AN UNDERHANDED AND DECEITFUL WAY. I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE ASHAMED OF A CHILD OF MINE BEFORE. AND YOUR FATHER IS MORTIFIED."

There was a pause here and a few foolish people removed their fingers, leaving their ears unprotected. Ron, however, knew better; his mother was simply gathering her breath for the next outburst.

"IF I HEAR THAT YOU HAVE SO MUCH AS LOOKED AT ANYONE IN THE WRONG WAY FOR THE REMAINDER OF YOUR TIME AT HOGWARTS, THEN YOU'LL BE COMING STRAIGHT HOME. I WON'T HAVE YOU SHOWING UP OUR FAMILY IN THIS WAY."

Draco couldn't restrain the smug look that spread over his face as he watched a wave of humiliation consume the She-Weasel. He glanced over at Pansy and saw that she was similarly enjoying the spectacle.

"YOU ARE IN A WORLD OF TROUBLE YOUNG LADY!"

Draco could have sworn that there was still a ringing in his ears, long after Molly Weasley's strident tones had ceased shaking Hogwarts to its foundations.

The Howler, now spent, burst into flames until their was nothing left to tell of it's existence, except for a small pile of ashes, and several cases of temporary deafness.

The whole school watched eagerly as Ginny stood up shakily and exited the Great Hall, with as much dignity as she could muster. Which, under the circumstances, was not very much.

Hermione watched with a satisfied smile on her face, Harry looked desperately uncomfortable, Ron removed his fingers from his ears and resumed eating, and Pansy and Draco exchanged glances.

It had certainly been a good way to start the day, Draco acknowledged to himself. There was nothing like the humiliation of ones enemies to get the day off to a good start.

But, after everything that the She- Weasel had put both Harry and Pansy through, it was nowhere near enough.

But, if nothing else, then the last week had shown Draco where his priorities lay. Harry was what mattered. Not that he had any intention of letting Ginny Weasley off without exacting revenge at its Slytherin best, but it could wait - for now.


	57. I Think I'm Going To Like Her

While Harry had decided not to brood on recent events, and Draco was concentrating on more important things for the time being, the same could not be said of Ginny Weasley.

Her recent actions had brought the wrath of almost her entire family on her head. First off, there had been that skin-crawlingly humiliating Howler from her mother. Then, Ron had collared her and given her his version of the riot act.

As if that hadn't been enough judgement from her own flesh and blood, it was swiftly followed by letters from both Charlie and George, remonstrating with her. The final straw had been a somewhat pompous letter from Percy, who pointed out that after recently burying one child; perhaps their mother had enough on her plate, without Ginny showing them all up.

Every one of those letters found their way into the common room fire. Ginny had been literally shaking with rage as she watched the flames engulf Percy's missive. How dare he say those things to her, she raged inwardly. He was basically accusing her of not caring about Fred, which was ridiculous.

Ginny didn't think she would ever be able to forget sight of her brother, laid on the flagstones in the Great Hall, glassy-eyed, with a bizarre half-smile on his face. She had wanted to scream them, had wanted to let out her pain so that everyone understood just what had been lost. But the stricken looks on her parents' faces, and the utter devastation on George's had made her suppress it; their needs had come first.

And over the weeks that followed, she had fallen into a pattern of hiding her grief, of plastering on a brave smile for the rest of the world to see. To everyone else, it appeared as though she had dealt with her pain. But inside, the silent scream, that had started when she laid eyes on her brother's corpse, was still aching to be let out.

And for Percy to say those things, to accuse her of not caring, well, it was too much to be borne.

And then there was Harry. Ginny was still reeling from the shock of Harry's sexuality. Nothing in the kisses they had shared, in the touches or the tender moments, nothing had given any indication of his true preferences.

And that was what confused her the most. How could he had looked at her like she was the only other person in the world, while all along he was not remotely attracted to her?

Ginny felt used. Obviously, Harry had been using her, pretending to care about her so that he could hide the fact that he was gay. How could he have done that to her? Whisper pretty lies in her ear, while all along thinking of someone, anyone else.

She had finally accepted that their relationship, such as it had been, was truly over. How could she compete with a boy? There was just no way. And despite her recent actions to the contrary, Ginny genuinely wanted Harry to be happy; she had just always assumed that she would be the one to make him so.

Not that any of this lessened her anger. In fact, it only served to increase it. The overwhelming sense of betrayal consumed her. Harry had led her on, lied to her. If he had just told her the truth, months ago, then she would have been able to get used to the idea. Not to Malfoy, she would never be okay with that, but with him being gay.

Ginny genuinely had nothing against homosexuality. How could she, when her own brother was gay? But Malfoy, a Slytherin, a Death Eater for Merlin's sake - it was unacceptable.

And it wasn't just Harry who had betrayed her. Her own family had turned their backs on her, had taken sides with Harry and that snake, against her, their flesh and blood.

Even Ron, who could usually be relied upon for a volatile reaction to all things Slytherin, seemed to be accepting of this aberration.

The cold fury that had once been reserved for Pansy Parkinson, had found itself a new target in the shape of Draco Malfoy. Not because she believed that he had stolen Harry from her, she was realistic enough to understand he had never Ibeen hers/I, but because he dared to think he was worthy of the Boy Who Lived…

Harry was naïve and wanted to see the best in everyone, and Ginny admired him for that. But this time he needed to be shown he was wrong to place his faith in Malfoy; he would never see it for himself.

* * *

The fall out from the _Daily Prophet's_ article had had quite an impact on Harry's postbag. It seemed that everyone had an opinion on the revelations about his private life, and most of them seemed intent on sharing them.

The first letter that he had received was from Molly Weasley, and mercifully, it was neither red nor smoking. It had in fact been a letter of unqualified support, with only a small reproach that he had felt unable to tell them beforehand.

The sentiments contained in this letter warmed Harry's heart. Ever since the summer, he had worried about what his parents would have thought about this development in his life, and re-reading Molly Weasley's words, which were, in truth, a mother's words, he felt that concern die away.

This letter had simply been the tip of a very large iceberg. Over the next few days, Harry was inundated with letters of support, of outrage, and a surprisingly large amount of propositions; some even sent photographs.

After the first naked picture fluttered onto the morning breakfast table, Draco had taken it upon himself to screen Harry's post before allowing it into his boyfriend's possession.

Pansy took great delight in reading the more lurid ones and, to Harry's mortification, read out some of the more detailed suggestions made.

The morning following the publication of the_ Prophet's_ article, came a large package, supported by several weary owls. Harry had opened it warily, and found to his embarrassment, and his friends' amusement, a framed copy of the article, and a suggestion from George that he should hang it over his bed.

Not all the letters were supportive by any means, and Draco was neither surprised nor fazed by the Howlers or angry epistles that he received. Harry, on the other hand, whilst unconcerned about his own negative press, was beyond furious that anyone would dare to attack Draco.

The first few critics received stinging replies from their Saviour, telling them just what he thought of their opinions, and just where exactly they could stick them. Pansy and Ron had both been highly amused by Harry's choice words. Draco and Hermione, however, had been somewhat horrified by his actions, and hadn't relented until they had obtained his promise to stop.

In the end, they decided that any letter, not from family or friend, would be disposed of immediately, unread. Pansy mourned the loss of her salacious breakfast time read, but Draco remained firm.

Tuesday morning say several Slytherins, once again, eating breakfast at the Gryffindor table. It was fast becoming such a common sight, that few people batted an eyelid at it anymore.

Harry munched on his toast and eyed his boyfriend covertly. He doubted that he would ever become totally accustomed to the sight of a Malfoy and a Weasley, willingly conversing. It was a tentative peace between the two boys, one that was fraught with potential minefields. But they both persevered, for Harry's sake, and watching them together, Harry felt the luckiest person alive.

Harry was deep in thought this morning, however. With all the upset and excitement of the last week, the significant approaching date had completely passed him by. Now, with Valentine's day less than a week away, he was beginning to panic.

Draco prided himself on his present buying skills, and Harry very much doubted that a box of chocolates, even Honeydukes finest, would be enough in return.

Harry was painfully aware that he and Draco had not been completely intimate with each other since their return from the manor. And he had rather hoped to use the upcoming celebration to find somewhere private for them to resume their full, physical relationship. The trouble was, where?

Both dormitories were out, as Harry had no desire to perform for a crowd, and Draco refused to entertain the idea of the Room of Requirement, for obvious reasons.

Neither of them were low key enough to book a room somewhere, unless they went Muggle, and Harry had no idea how to go about that, in any case.

He was roused from his thoughts by the arrival of the morning mail call. A quick look upwards reassured Harry the few owls were headed in his direction; hopefully the furore created by the article was dying down.

In fact, a lone black owl, was heading in his direction, laden with several letters. It landed shakily on the table in front of Harry, and Ron was forced to save the jug of pumpkin juice that wobbled precariously in its wake.

"Bloody owl," the redhead muttered. "It's as bad as Errol. Why can't anyone in our family have a normal, sane bird?"

Harry grinned at his friend as he reached out to take one of its burdens. Ron stretched out to take his own letter and was rewarded for his earlier comments with sharp nip. The owl then shot him a disdainful look before hopping the few short yards to where Pansy sat.

The Slytherin girl coloured slightly as she relieved the owl its remaining letter. She tried to hide her flush by busying herself with feeding the bird small morsels of bacon.

"Harry," Ron began, and Harry winced, knowing what was coming next. "Why the hell is Charlie writing to Parkinson?"

"Just read your letter, Ron," Harry advised, trying to avoid the question.

"Are they…" Ron didn't finish the sentence, the shock of his suspicion rendering him dumb.

"Just read," Harry repeated. He knew that Charlie and Pansy had agreed not to hide their tentative relationship any longer. Now that everyone knew that Pansy and Harry weren't together, there was really no need.

Pansy had been a little apprehensive about her boyfriend's family's reaction. But, as Harry had pointed out, they had easily accepted him and Draco, so there was really no reason to suspect they wouldn't accept her.

Harry busied himself with reading his own letter. He had never been particularly close to Charlie before, what with him living in Rumania, but since Christmas they had struck up a friendly correspondence; Charlie became the older brother he never had, offering advice, support and acceptance, that had been sorely needed at the time.

Despite the gap in their ages, Harry wholeheartedly approved of Pansy's relationship with him, and only hoped that Ron wouldn't put a spanner in the works! As if on cue, there was a minor explosion from the redhead's direction.

"Bloody hell! What is it with you people and Slytherins?"

There followed an awkward moment of silence, no one quite sure what to say to that.

"What can I tell you, Weasley," Draco drawled eventually. "We're irresistible."

Ron snorted at this and the tension was broken. The redhead looked over to an uncomfortable looking Pansy and gave a small shrug.

"I reckon if I can put up with him," he said, with a nod in Draco's direction, "then I can cope with you, no problem."

Pansy smiled. "I'm much less high-maintenance," she agreed, to Draco's outrage and everyone else's amusement.

Ron nudged Harry. "I think I'm going to like her."

* * *

"Harry."

Harry paused in his conversation with Seamus and turned to smile at Pansy, who was waiting patiently for his attention.

"I'll catch up with you later," he said to his roommate, before crossing the corridor to the Slytherin girl.

"Hey, Pansy," he greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"You have a free period now, don't you?" Pansy questioned.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Draco's got Ancient Runes, so I was going to head up to the library. Want to come?"

"Not in the slightest," Pansy answered with a grin. She loathed schoolwork with the same level of passion that Hermione loved it with. "I was wondering if you had time for a chat?"

Harry's expression shifted to one of concern; his and Pansy's chats tended to be a bit angst-filled. "Sure. You okay?"

Pansy nodded. "I'm fine. It's nothing like that. I just want your opinion on something."

A short while later, the two friends had donned their warmest cloaks and had ventured outdoors.

The sky was clear blue and the sun was shining brightly overhead, but the air was crisp and cold, and the fine dusting of snow that coated the ground, crunched underfoot as thy walked along the lakeshore.

"So," Harry began, after Pansy had remained silent for quite some time. "What's on your mind?"

Pansy fished in her robe pocket and produced a piece of folded parchment.

"Charlie's letter?" Harry guessed.

Pansy nodded. "He wants me to visit him in Romania."

"I know," Harry replied in confusion. "He invited me and Draco as well. I thought we'd already decided to spend part of the summer there?"

"Not in the summer," Pansy said, her face taking on a worried expression. "Now. Well, this weekend to be precise."

"Oh. You do realise that Saturday-"

"Is Valentine's day? Yes, that's kind of the point."

"So, are you going to go?"

Pansy shook her head. "I don't know. I want to see him again. It's nice, writing letters, but it's not the same as actually being with him. But I'm not sure. I don't know if I'm ready to…" She trailed off here and thrust the parchment in Harry's direction. "Here, you read it, and see what you think."

The two friends came to a halt as Harry quickly skimmed Charlie's letter.

"It's seems okay," he said after a moment's silence. "He's quite clear about not expecting anything from you. And I hardly think he would invite Draco and me along as chaperones if he had a big seduction planned."

Pansy coloured a little at this. "I guess," she said uncertainly.

Harry reached out and took hold of her mitten-clad hand. "Do you want to go?"

"Yes," Pansy replied without hesitation. "I do, but-"

"How about if Draco and I come with you? Like Charlie suggested."

Pansy's face lit with a hopeful smile. "Really? You wouldn't mind? I just figured that you and Draco would have big plans of your own."

Harry grinned conspiratorially. "Actually, I kind of forgot all about Valentine's day until last night. I thought maybe we could keep this to ourselves 'till the weekend, and I could surprise Draco with it."

Pansy looked dubious, but Harry continued planning aloud. "We'll still get to have plenty of time alone. I'm sure you and Charlie won't want us hanging around you all the time. Plus, no one in Romania will either know, or care who we are."

"And the fact that you'll be sharing a room together doesn't hurt either," Pansy commented slyly.

Harry flushed a little. "Hadn't even occurred to me," he lied badly.

"Hmmm," said Pansy in a tone that clearly said she didn't believe him.

"C'mon." Harry tugged on her sleeve and started in the direction of the castle.

"Where to? I though we were taking a walk?"

"We need to see Professor McGonagall, and get her to okay it, before we make any definite plans."

"So we're really going?"

"Yep." Harry nodded his head enthusiastically.

Pansy let out a soft squeak and flung herself onto her friend, letting actions, rather than words, show just how she felt about that.

* * *

Professor McGonagall gave ready approval of their plan, much to Harry's relief. He rather suspected that she had agreed mainly as a result of his recent trip to the hospital wing, but, as much as that rankled, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

When everyone else was at dinner that night, Harry slipped back up to Gryffindor tower and Firecalled Charlie from the grate in the common room. He knew the main purpose of the trip was for them to be there for Pansy's sake, but that didn't mean he wasn't planning to take advantage of some alone time with his boyfriend.

After a long chat with Charlie, Harry headed back down to the Great Hall, feeling infinitely more relaxed about Valentine's day than he had that morning.

Draco eyed Harry suspiciously, as he slid into a seat at the Slytherin table.

"Where've you been?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

Harry smiled mysteriously, knowing how much it would aggravate his boyfriend. "Making plans," he answered somewhat cryptically, giving Pansy a sly wink.

Draco didn't miss this interaction and glared at the pair of them in turn. "Secrets aren't nice," he said, a rather cute pout on his face.

Harry slid a hand under the table and lightly squeezed his boyfriend's thigh. "This one is, I promise."

Draco frowned momentarily, scrunching his nose up in the way that Harry had come to adore. Then, his expression cleared.

"It's got to do with a certain important upcoming date, doesn't it? What are you planning? Is it a surprise?"

"Well, it would hardly be that if I told you, would it?" Harry teased, biting back a grin.

Draco huffed. "You could at least give me a clue. You know I hate surprises."

Harry laughed now. "It's not the surprise you don't like, it's the waiting, and the not knowing."

"You really should learn to be more patient," Pansy added, a sly smirk on her face.

Draco glared at his friend and then turned his best pleading expression onto his boyfriend. Harry shook his head resolutely.

"You won't break me that easily. You'll just have to wait until Friday. Oh, and don't make any plans for this weekend; you're going to be otherwise occupied."

Draco opened his mouth, questions and protests on the tip of his tongue. Revelling in the new openness surrounding their relationship, Harry leant in and silenced him efficiently with a deep kiss.

"Well," Pansy commented to Blaise, "that's certainly one way of shutting him up."

"Yes," Blaise agreed, grinning broadly. "Definitely very effective."

Harry broke the kiss at this and glared at the two grinning Slytherins. "Just so long as you don't try it yourselves," he warned.

* * *

Despite Harry's best efforts at distraction, Draco was not to be dissuaded from his mission to discover Harry's secret.

He knew that it was to do with Valentines, but that was all he was able to discern. He had pouted, cajoled, bribed, even threatened the withdrawal of certain 'benefits', but Harry remained surprisingly firm; Draco had reckoned without Gryffindor stubbornness.

By Friday, Draco was relentless, and Harry was beginning to seriously reconsider the wisdom of the trip.

Trying to keep his boyfriend out of the dungeons so that Pansy could sneakily pack his bags was more effort than anticipated. In the end, Harry had had to enlist Hermione's help, who then lured Draco away with the promise of an impromptu study session in the library.

When finally lessons finished for the weekend, Harry had never been more relieved. He led a petulant Draco in the direction of the Headmistress's office, where they found both Pansy, and their Portkey waiting for them.

"This will take you directly there, and is Charmed to bring you back at exactly 7pm on Sunday evening. Do not miss it." With those stern words, Professor McGonagall held out the toy dragon that Charlie, with a heavy sense of irony, had Charmed to transport them.

Harry placed his and Draco's joined hands onto the soft fur, swiftly followed by Pansy's. Before Draco could voice any of his questions or concerns, there was a tug just below all of their navels, and their surroundings began to shift.

When finally they reached their destination, Harry stumbled to the floor with his usual finesse, pulling a disgruntled Draco down with him.

With a peevish huff, Draco got to his feet and began to dust down his robes. He fixed a baleful glare on his boyfriend, who was busy scrambling to his feet.

"Honestly, Harry," he snapped. "You have all the grace of a Troll. It's no wonder…"

Draco trailed off here as his eyes took in more that just his boyfriend, and he realised that there were several strangers, and one familiar redhead, all watching him, with amused looks on their faces.


	58. A Taste Of Things To Come

**Author Note: There is some hot slash action coming up in this chapter - if you're easily offended, or too young, don't read!!**

* * *

Harry sat quietly, slowly eating his stew. He was content to allow the others around the table to carry the flow of conversation.

He trailed his eyes around the table, resting on each of his dinner companions in turn. Harry didn't think he had ever seen Charlie Weasley as relaxed as he was at that moment - not even in the easygoing atmosphere of the Burrow. He was the perfect, genial host. Catering to his guests' needs, serving a welcome, hearty meal, which he proudly laid claim to having cooked himself.

Pansy sat at his side. She had been uncharacteristically shy at first, nervous to be reunited with the boyfriend she hadn't seen since New Year, and rather disconcerted by the presence of some of Charlie's female work colleagues. However, she had quickly bloomed under Charlie's attentive behaviour, gentle touches, and his quite obvious delight in her company.

As unobservant as he was frequently accused of being, Harry didn't miss the brief, adoring glances that Pansy was shooting her boyfriend when she thought no one was looking. Harry rather suspected that Draco would be dressing his friend in yellow and blue if he caught her blatantly Hufflepuffish behaviour.

Pansy felt the weight of her friend's stare and, raising her eyes to meet his, grinned widely before turning her attention to the petite Romanian girl on her other side.

Harry hadn't missed the slight crease of Pansy's brow when Ileana had been introduced to them. But it quickly became apparent that her relationship with Charlie was purely platonic on both their parts. There was affection there, but it was the kind of friendship that Harry had with Hermione, and had hoped to retain with Ginny, before things had broken down irretrievably.

He gave himself a small shake; he wasn't going to think about that, not now. He turned his thoughts, instead, to the Romanian girl, admiring her command of English, as she regaled them with stories that caused Charlie's face to flush a similar colour to his hair.

Draco sat to Charlie's other side, and Harry watched his boyfriend closely. To an outside observer, Draco no doubt appeared to be relaxed, and charmed by the present company. But Harry knew better.

Although Draco was engaged in conversation with Emil, another of Charlie's colleagues, there was an expression in his grey eyes that told Harry he was preoccupied with other matters. That, and the fact that Draco resolutely refused to meet his gaze, had Harry worried.

The meal was finally over and, in the absence of house-elves, Harry assisted Charlie with clearing the table.

"You don't have to do this, you know? You are a guest."

Following Charlie into the kitchen, Harry set the stack of dishes onto the work surface. "'S okay. I don't mind. Besides, I wanted a chance to talk to you without Draco around."

Charlie paused in the act of loading the sink. "Everything's arranged. Don't worry about it."

Harry relaxed visibly. "That's a relief. I think Draco's already pissed off with me, so I need all the help I can get."

Charlie looked surprised. "He seemed okay at dinner. What's up with him?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. I think maybe he was expecting me to take him somewhere a bit more…"

"Fancy?" Charlie suggested, and Harry felt his heart sink. That had been his first thought too, but he was making a concerted effort to believe in his boyfriend.

"Maybe. Or just somewhere private, you know?"

Charlie nodded. "I do really appreciate you coming. I doubt Pansy would have come alone, and we don't exactly get the chance to see each other often. I'm just sorry if it's caused problems for you."

"Not your fault," Harry returned. "I don't even really know if that's the problem."

Charlie cast a quick look over his shoulder, out of the window. "You won't get much privacy in here. Why don't you go for a walk, clear the air a bit? Just make sure you wrap up warm; it's freezing out there."

Harry smiled gratefully, before looking despondently at the pile of dishes he had agreed to wash. Noticing this, Charlie took pity on him. "Go on. I'll do these"

"You sure?"

"Yes. Go." Charlie flicked the tea towel playfully at him. "You'll be no use to me in that mooning state anyway."

Harry dodged out of the way of another well-aimed flick. "Thanks," he shot over his shoulder, as he fled the room.

Draco was stood by the fireplace, seemingly deep in conversation with Emil. He was a dark, good-looking Romanian, and unless Harry was much mistaken, he had taken rather a shine to Draco.

Feeling the fain rumbling of his possessive Chest Monster, Harry strode over purposefully to join them.

Draco smiled in welcome and quickly acquiesced to Harry's request that they take a walk. Feeling some of his concern slip away, Harry helped his boyfriend into his thick winter cloak, before turning to fetch his own.

When he turned back, Harry couldn't help the grin that spread over his face at the sight of Draco sporting his oh-so-familiar fur hat.

"What's so amusing?" Draco demanded, slowly easing his slender fingers into his gloves.

"Your hat," Harry admitted sheepishly. "Reminds me of our third year."

Draco huffed at this. "Yes, throwing mud is very funny. I'll have you know it took the house-elves absolutely ages to get it clean after that, you barbarian."

Harry's smile grew wider at this sight of his boyfriend's pout and, leaning in, he stole a quick kiss.

Only the presence of several complete strangers restrained Draco from tugging his boyfriend into his arms and devouring him on the spot.

They headed outside, heeding Charlie's warning to stick to the path, and set off into the crisp night air.

The moon was full and bright, and Harry experienced a brief pang of grief for Remus, as he did at this time every month. But as he felt Draco's gloved hand slide into his, he brought his attention back to the present.

They walked silently for a short while, only the sound of their boots crunching the thick carpet of snow broke the silence. The moon was high in the clear night sky, its light casting a bluish aura over the snow-capped peaks that surrounded them.

"What's wrong?" Harry blurted out finally, unable to bear the silence any longer.

Draco came to a halt, somewhat surprised at the outburst. "Nothing's wrong. What makes you say that?"

Harry gazed at the blond, taking in the way that the moonlight played across his features, making him seem almost ethereal.

"Draco, please. Something's been bothering you all night. Maybe the others can't tell, but I know you too well for that. If I've done something to upset you, I need to know. I don't want us to have secrets, not anymore." Harry stepped closer as he finished speaking, and the earnest expression on his face undid Draco's stoic resolve.

"It's not anything you've done, not really."

"Is it because we've come here? I know it's not posh or fancy, but I-"

"No!" Draco cut in sharply. "Merlin, am I really that shallow?" He shook his head. "Don't answer that," he added ruefully. "It really isn't you. It's something I did, and I was stupid to think that it would go away so quickly."

"Is this about the thing with Ginny?"

Draco nodded reluctantly. "I'm being selfish. I know that I really hurt you. The things I said and did…You have every right to hate me."

Harry made to speak at this point, but Draco laid a finger on his lips.

"Let me finish, please."

Harry nodded silently.

"I count myself so lucky every day that you gave me a second chance. And I know that you have every right to want to take things slow. I just thought that this weekend we could be alone, and…I just wish you would have said you weren't ready, rather than bringing us here to simply avoid the issue."

Draco couldn't bring himself to meet Harry's gaze as he finished speaking. He knew he sounded petulant but, frankly, he didn't care.

Suddenly, he felt the soft leather of Harry's gloves brushing against his skin, and his face was being tilted gently upwards.

Harry felt his chest tighten at the array of emotions he saw playing across his boyfriend's face. "That's not why, Draco. I swear. What happened in the past is over, behind us. I don't hold it against you. I want nothing more than for us to be like we were at Christmas, but it's just not that easy when we both share a dorm with others."

Draco still looked a little sceptical, but he remained silent.

"I just thought it would be nice for us to get away," Harry continued to explain. "Avoid the scrutiny, you know? Plus I wanted to help Pansy out. You know she wouldn't have come on her own. I honestly didn't think you would mind."

"I don't, not really," Draco admitted slowly. "Not now you've explained it. So you still want to be with me, like that?"

"Yes, you git," Harry teased affectionately.

The tension eased from Draco's body. "Well, I suppose that at least we'll get our own room here," he said, sounding somewhat mollified.

Harry shifted guiltily. "Ah, about that. We won't actually be getting a room. More like a sofa bed in the living room."

Draco looked confused at this. "What the hell is a…You know what? Forget I asked. It doesn't sound like I'll want to know. You'll just have to make it up to me, somehow."

Harry stepped closer still. "Oh, I believe that can be arranged," he said lightly, trailing a fingertip down Draco's torso.

He leaned in and Draco parted his lips eagerly, the soft puffs of their breath visible in the crisp air. When all he received was a quick press of his boyfriend's lips, Draco let out a distinctly un-Malfoyish whine.

"Harrrry!"

Harry just grinned at his pouting face, before grabbing his hand and dragging him off the path, into the shadows beside one of the large dragon pens.

Finding himself pressed against the fence, rather forcefully, Draco let out a gasp. "What are you doing?"

Harry gave him another grin, this time a rather wicked one. "I though I'd get a head start on making it up to you."

Draco's eyes widened as he read the intent in his boyfriend's eyes.

"Harry," he began uncertainly. "I don't think-"

Draco's words were lost in Harry's mouth as he was kissed lazily, their tongues plundering each other's mouths. Pulling back, Harry smiled. "Don't think," he murmured huskily. "Just enjoy."

Before Draco could add anything further, Harry had cast a quick Waterproofing Charm on his clothes and sank to his knees. His fingers parted Draco's cloak and began unzipping his trousers.

"Someone might find us," Draco gasped.

"Then you'll have to be really, really quiet, won't you," Harry teased, having finally wrapped his fingers around Draco's rapidly growing erection.

Draco felt a distinct chill as the cold night air greeted his naked flesh, so he wrapped the folds of his cloak around his boyfriend's kneeling form. He was loath to miss out on the sight of Harry's mouth on his cock, but the sounds more than made up for it, and anyway, it was infinitely preferably to a rather indelicate case of frostbite.

As Harry sucked greedily around the head of Draco's cock, he wrapped his still-gloved hand around the base and began stroking. Wondering, as he did, how the leather felt against his boyfriend's skin.

Had Draco been in any fit state to speak coherently, he would have told Harry that it felt fantastic, bloody fantastic!

Draco's own gloved hand was stuffed in his mouth, in a rather desperate attempt to stifle the whimpers and moans that were fighting to escape his lips. His other hand was gripping onto the chain link fencing behind him, in a weak effort to keep himself from collapsing in sheer pleasure.

The feel of Harry's lips and tongue working his aching flesh, together with the heightened arousal that came from their public location, were pushing Draco towards his completion quicker than he had since his early teens.

When he felt Harry's leather-clad hands slide round to cup the bare skin of his buttocks, alternately kneading and spreading them, Draco couldn't help but thrust more forcefully into his boyfriend's mouth.

Not even his own hand could muffle the erotic groan that he let out as he felt Harry swallowing hard around his shaft, desperately trying to take in all he was given. Draco knew he would last only moments longer. Harry's fingers were flitting over the sensitive skin of his puckered entrance, and his other hand had begun to caress his boyfriend's heavy balls.

Draco pulled the cloak back off Harry; it was more than worth the rise of frostbite to see the look on his boyfriend's face as he swallowed his seed.

As the first spurt of come exploded into his mouth, Harry looked up and locked gazes with Draco, both their eyes burning with lust. Harry suckled at Draco's spent cock until the last trace of come had been lovingly licked away. Then, he gently tucked him back in and slowly rose to his feet.

Leaning in, Harry captured Draco's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue thrusting into his boyfriend's mouth, allowing him to taste himself.

"Wow," Draco panted, when they eventually parted. "What was that?"

"A taste of things to come," Harry replied, a distinct leer on his face.

A lazy, sated smile spread across Draco's face. "We'll have to sleep on those sofa bed thingies more often if this is the compensation I get." He leered in return and raised one leg between Harry's thighs, bringing unbearable pressure onto his neglected erection.

"How about we see to you now?" Draco teased.

"Yes please." Harry nodded eagerly, his eyes sparkling with desire.

Draco undid his boyfriend's trousers with impressive speed, but no sooner had his questing hand circled Harry's achingly hard cock, than the sound of approaching voices could be heard on the still night air.

Harry stilled and then attempted to pull away.

"Relax," Draco murmured against his lips, before continuing with his ministrations.

Harry buried his face in the crook of Draco's neck in an effort to stifle the needy whimpers now rising in his throat.

"Harry! Draco! Are you out here?"

Both boys froze.

"Shit! Fucking Pansy!" Harry complained.

"You still think it was such a good idea to come away with her?" Draco asked, a little smugly, as he removed his hand from Harry's trousers.

"She's your best friend," Harry retaliated, before looking mournfully at his unattended erection. "That girl has the worst timing ever."

"Come on, you two. Charlie's going to show us the Pygmy Dragons." Pansy's bell-like tones sounded again, closer this time.

"We'd better go," Draco said begrudgingly. "She won't give up until she's found us. She's like a damn bloodhound, that girl." He grabbed Harry's hand and began tugging him in the direction of the path.

"What about this?" Harry asked plaintively, gesturing at the bulging crotch of his trousers, which

he was struggling to close.

Draco paused thoughtfully for a moment, and then grinned a little evilly. "You could try stuffing some snow down there. That should kill it!"

"That's not very nice, Draco," Harry pouted. "I thought you loved me."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake. Come here."

Harry stepped closer, pouting still. Draco reached out and deftly tucked him away, carefully fastening his zipper. He tugged Harry's cloak firmly around him.

"There. That will hide it at least. Now come on."

Harry followed reluctantly, mentally plotting his revenge on the Slytherin girl, who was grinning smugly at their approach.

"And where have you two been? I thought Charlie told you to stay on the path."

"We just got a little side-tracked," Harry muttered, a hint of resentment in his tone.

"So I see," Pansy replied. "Is that snow on your knees, Harry? How ever did that get there?"

"I fell," Harry replied lamely, hoping that no one noticed his flushed face.

"Of course you did," Pansy agreed. "After all, what else would you be doing on your knees, alone in the dark with your boyfriend."

Draco and Charlie both tried to suppress chuckles at this, and Harry glared at both of them balefully.

Deciding further denial was pointless, Harry decided to see if he couldn't discomfort his friends a little. "Well," he snapped finally, "It's a little hard to give a blow job standing up."

Harry's desire to laugh at the stunned expressions of his companions overrode his desire to run and hide following that outburst. He hadn't really meant to say quite that much, but he was still hard, with no relief in sight, and he was a little pissed off.

A slow grin spread over Pansy's face and she stepped forward, linking her arm through Harry's. "Of course it is," she soothed. "Now, let's go see those Dragons."

* * *

Harry woke up early the next morning. He felt surprisingly refreshed considering the late night they had had.

Eagerly taking advantage of the lack of curfew, and snooping professors, they had stayed up 'till the small hours, chatting happily and becoming well acquainted with a local drink, Tuica.

Draco had indulged slightly more than Harry had, hence he was currently still sleeping like the dead. Only the sound of the occasional soft snore gave tell that he was still alive.

Not wanting to disturb his boyfriend, Harry got out of bed gingerly. The sofa bed had proved surprisingly comfortable, despite his earlier misgivings. He padded barefoot in the direction of the kitchen; the warmth of the cabin was deceptive, especially considering the deep layer of snow that covered the ground outside.

As he set some water on to boil, Harry was startled by the sound of the outside door opening. Charlie stepped into the kitchen, wrapped warmly, a fine dusting of snow on his cloak.

"Morning, Harry." He grinned. "Didn't expect to see any of you lot up this early."

Harry tried, and failed to stifle a yawn before replying. "I'm used to not having much sleep," he replied with a shrug.

"Oh, right. Draco keeping you up at night, is he?" Charlie teased.

"Something like that." Harry didn't want to dampen the mood by mentioning his lack of sleep was more due to nightmares than any other nocturnal activity.

"You making coffee?" Charlie asked, spying the mugs on the worktop.

Harry nodded. "It's best to get caffeine into Draco's system as early as possible in the day. You want one?"

"Please," Charlie replied, as he began rooting in a nearby cupboard. "You might want to give him one of these as well," he said, placing a Hangover Potion on the counter top. "That Tuica's pretty strong stuff. I tried telling him and Pansy, but you know how they are."

"Slytherins," Harry commented, as if this explained it all. And judging from the answering grin on Charlie's face, it did.

"How come you're up so early, anyway? I thought you had the weekend off?"

"I had to do Emil's early start fro him, so that he would cover my late tonight," Charlie explained. "There's not much to it, really. Just sorting out the feed, and so on."

"Is Emil gay?" Harry blurted out, then flushed vividly. "Sorry, that's none of my business. Forget I asked."

Charlie hopped onto the counter at the side of Harry and gratefully took his drink. "That's okay. He doesn't make a secret of it, so I doubt he would mind me telling you. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Harry muttered, taking refuge in his steaming cup of coffee.

"This is because of how much he was talking to Draco last night, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged, noncommittally.

"I really wouldn't worry about it. You're crazy if you think that boy has got eyes for anyone but

you."

Any further discussion on the topic was put to an end, as Draco himself ambled into the room. Still pyjama-clad, his blond hair was mussed from sleep and there were still pillow creases evident

on his face.

"Feels like something died in my mouth," he grumbled, by way of a greeting.

Charlie smiled. "That would be the Tuica. I tried telling you how strong it was."

Draco turned to glare at his host, but the effect was rather spoilt as he winced at the winter sun streaming through the kitchen window. "No one likes a smug git," he retorted, without any real feeling behind it.

Harry sidled up to his grumpy boyfriend and slid an arm around his narrow waist. Holding out the Hangover Potion in his free hand, he dropped a quick kiss on Draco's flushed cheek. "Oh, I don't know about that. After all, I like you."

Draco glared at his boyfriend, quite successfully this time, before snatching the glass vial. "I'm starting to remember why I hated you for all those years. You better have one hell of a present lined up for me today, or you're sleeping with the Dragons tonight."

As Draco drank the potion greedily, Charlie made his excuses and headed back outside to see to his duties.

All traces of hangover now gone, Draco spied the mug of steaming coffee on the side.

"Is that for me?" he asked, already having snagged it.

"Yeah, I was going to bring it to you in bed."

Already feeling better as the caffeine hit his system, Draco turned a smile on his boyfriend. Pressing a kiss to Harry's lips, he murmured, "Happy Valentine's day."

"Happy Valentine's day to you, too," Harry replied as he leant in to capture Draco's lips again. "It's still early, so why don't we head back to bed for a while? We could have a bit of a cuddle," he finished hopefully.

Draco arched one brow. "Cuddle? You better have a lot more than that in mind, Potter. You've got a lot of ground to make up."

* * *

During the day, Charlie gave them a far more in depth tour of the reserve than he had been able to do the night before. Even allowing them to help when it came to feeding the Pygmy Dragons. Harry had been amused to note the look of avid interest on Draco's face, especially considering how much his boyfriend had disliked Care of Magical Creatures at school.

One of the highlights of the tour, for Harry, was getting to catch a glimpse of Norbert - the Norwegian Ridgeback that Hagrid had hatched from an egg. Seeing the magnificent beast that she had become, compared to the tiny baby she had been when last he saw her, left Harry awestruck.

The tour over, the two couples had gone their separate ways. Charlie and Pansy opting for the warmth indoors, while Harry and Draco had snagged a couple of spare brooms and took to the air.

The reserve was well hidden, nestled, as it was, in the Carpathian mountain range. There were anti-Muggle Charms for quite some distance around it, and as long as they stayed within the reserves air space, the two boys were quite safe from detection.

Harry did his level best to keep Draco's mind occupied as much as possible. They had agreed to wait until the evening to exchange their gifts, but this did not stop Draco from badgering him for hints constantly.

They spent several hours soaring over the snow-laden forests that covered the mountainsides, their cheeks flushed from cold and exertion, their eyes bright with the excitement that flying brought to them both.

By late afternoon, the sun was beginning to set, casting a pink glow over the snowy peaks, and causing the skies to darken. Harry reluctantly indicated that it was time for them to return home.

Back inside the cabin, they found a very cosy looking pair, snuggled up together on the sofa. Harry restrained himself from commenting on Charlie's mussed up hair, or on Pansy's kiss-swollen lips. Despite his friend's merciless teasing of him the previous night, Harry understood how difficult it was for Pansy to be intimate with her boyfriend, and he didn't want to embarrass her.

Once he saw Draco settled, Harry took his leave. Behaving in a mysterious fashion, that drove his boyfriend to distraction, he would not give any indication of where he was going. All he would say was that he was taking Draco out for dinner, and he should dress accordingly. Then, he pressed a small model dragon into his boyfriend's hand, explaining that it was a Portkey, which would activate at precisely 7pm, taking him to their destination - where Harry would be waiting.

Draco pouted, sulked, wheedled, and tried every weapon in his vast armour, but Harry remained unmoved. Giving his boyfriend one last kiss, Harry raised his wand and began to turn. A crack of Apparition followed, leaving one very sulky looking blond, staring into thin air.

* * *

Over the next couple of hours, Draco drove both Charlie and Pansy to the point of distraction. He plagued them both mercilessly with questions regarding Harry's plans for the evening, refusing to believe that there were as ignorant of the facts as he was.

Eventually, the other couple left him to his own devices, retreating to their respective rooms to prepare for their own evening out, and to gain some much-needed peace and quiet.

Draco slumped down onto the sofa, brooding over his boyfriend's behaviour. Harry was being sneaky, and he didn't like it one little bit. He was the Slytherin in this relationship, it should be him plotting and sneaking about, not the other way round.

He lost track of how long he sat there, trying to work out what Harry had planned. It was only when Pansy bravely popped her head round the door and reminded him of the time, that he stirred himself into action and began to get ready.

He showered quickly, noting gratefully that Pansy had had the foresight to pack his usual products. He towelled himself roughly and then cast a quick Drying Charm on his hair. Satisfied with the way it fell in silken strands, framing his features, he slipped on his underwear and then exited the bathroom.

Draco perused the clothes that Pansy had packed for him, struggling to decide what to wear. Not knowing where he was going for the evening, made it very difficult for him to choose an appropriate outfit. And if there was one thing that Draco hated, it was being unprepared, or underdressed.

In the end, he selected a couple of options and headed in the direction of Pansy's bedroom, seeking assistance. He knocked smartly on the door, and entered the room before his friend had even had chance to acknowledge. Heedless of Pansy's outraged squeal, or the fact that she was still half-dressed herself; Draco flung his clothes down, and sank onto the bed next to them.

"Come in, Draco," Pansy said, somewhat sarcastically.

Draco dismissed her irritation with a wave of his hand. "Never mind that, Pansy. I'm having a crisis here."

Pansy couldn't help the grin that cracked her face; Draco really could be melodramatic when he tried. Deciding that any form of protest would not only be futile, but would also prolong the agony, Pansy stepped forward and began perusing the choice of outfits.

"Definitely the dark grey trousers," she advised. Then, sensing the disagreement on Draco's lips, she added, "trust me. They make your arse look amazing."

Draco snatched the trousers from her hand, needing no further persuasion. Pansy congratulated herself inwardly on her successful manipulation. She quickly discarded several of the shirts that he had selected, before finally reaching out and plucking at the blue cashmere sweater.

"Wear this," she instructed. "It suits your colouring, and apart from that, Harry bought it for you."

Draco looked a little sceptical. "Are you sure? It's not too casual is it?"

Pansy sank onto the bed next to him. "Draco, I might not know where you're going tonight, but I do know clothes. Trust me; this is perfect. Harry chose it, so obviously he loves you in this colour, and it's so soft that he won't be able to keep his hands off you."

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment, before giving a nod. "You're right," he agreed. "It doesn't matter where we're going; Harry will love that I'm wearing the jumper he got for me."

"Exactly," Pansy agreed, getting to her feet. "Now go, and let me get dressed."

Draco turned a grin on his friend. "You mean that's not what you're wearing tonight?" he asked, indicating Pansy's rather fancy lingerie with a wave of his hand.

Pansy just blushed lightly and Draco continued mercilessly. "Looks like someone's planning on having more than just dinner. Weasley's going to have a heart attack when he sees that get up."

Pansy flushed vividly now and snatched a nearby towel, holding it in front of her body. "Just go and get dressed, Draco. Stop bothering me!"

Draco chuckled, but nonetheless complied with her request. He headed back into the living room, where he proceeded to don the selected outfit. Admiring his reflection in a nearby mirror, he had to admit that Pansy was right; the soft blue of the jumper really did compliment his skin, and made his eyes gleam brighter. Harry wouldn't know what hit him.

He watched the clock impatiently, willing it to go faster. As the seconds ticked away, and it neared seven, Draco snatched up the model dragon that Harry had given him earlier, and clutched it tightly. Now that the wait was over, he allowed himself to feel some excitement at the anticipation of Harry's surprise.

Draco shouted a quick goodbye to Charlie and Pansy, just as he felt the familiar feel of a hook just behind his navel.

When he landed, Draco was somewhat disorientated, but mercifully, upright. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting of his new location. Then Harry was there, standing in front of him, smiling gently and holding out what looked like a glass of champagne.

"Happy Valentine's day," he murmured softly, leaning forward and pecking his boyfriend on the lips. "You look amazing. I love that colour on you."

Draco couldn't help but smile a little smugly, noting that Harry was also wearing the jumper he had been given for Christmas. "Thank you," he replied, reaching for the proffered drink. "So do you." And he meant it. Harry always looked stunning in green.

Turning away from his boyfriend, Draco began to scan his surroundings. "Where are we?" he asked curiously.

Harry stepped closer and placed his hand lightly on Draco's elbow, guiding him further into the room. "We're in a lodge on the far side of the reserve. They rent it out in the summer for people to come on holiday, but it's empty in the winter. Charlie organised it for me."

Draco took a sip of his champagne and examined the room further. The walls were timber clad, as was the floor, with only a scattering of rugs covering its highly polished surface. The floor they were on was open plan, comprising of a kitchen, dining and living area. The lights were burning very low, giving the room a warm, cosy feel.

An array of tempting smells assaulted Draco's senses. He turned in the direction of the kitchen area, and was surprised to see that Harry had been in the process of making their dinner.

"You cooked?"

"Don't sound so surprised. It's just one of my many talents."

"Hmm, and I'm hoping to experience more of those talents later." Draco gave his boyfriend a lascivious look.

"Oh, you will. I can promise you that. We have this place to ourselves till morning."

Draco's interest was definitely piqued at this piece of news. He had to wonder if he would be able to restrain himself long enough to make it through dinner. The temptation to strip his boyfriend and take him was overwhelming, but Harry had gone to the trouble of cooking him a meal, so he would do his best to restrain himself.

Harry smirked a little as he saw the play of emotions on his boyfriend's face. "We have to eat dinner before we get to dessert," he teased.

"Is it ready, then?" he asked hopefully.

"In about another ten minutes, or so."

Draco pouted; patience may be a virtue, but it was not one he had gained yet. However, Harry's next words completely derailed his sulk.

"I thought we could exchange gifts before we eat."

When Draco smiled it was like the sun had come out, Harry reflected. There was nothing like the mention of presents for putting that expression of childlike glee on his boyfriend's face.

Harry led Draco over to the small table where he had placed their gifts. He felt a little nervous, like he always did, at the prospect of Draco's reaction. The present had seemed like a wonderful gesture at the time, but now…

"Here, you go first." Harry held out a small parcel, wrapped in silver and topped with a green bow.

Draco set down his drink and eagerly snatched the gift from his boyfriend's outstretched hands. He ripped it open with little care for the wrappings, and found himself holding a black, velvet ring box.

Without opening it, he looked at Harry warily. "Shouldn't you be down on one knee, or something?" he teased.

"Idiot. Just open it."

Draco flipped the box open and stared in surprise at the contents. After several moments silence, Harry felt his heart begin to sink. "You don't like it," he said flatly.

Draco tore his eyes away from the box. "No! That's not it at all. It's just, this is…"

"The Black family signet ring," Harry finished for him.

"I know that, Harry. But where did you get it from? Mother thought it had been lost after Great Uncle Orion died." The awe with which Draco removed the ring, went some way to reassuring Harry that his gift was well received.

"I inherited it, I guess. Along with the rest of Sirius' belongings. This was in his vault, so I guess it was important to him, despite the fall out with his family."

"I can't take this," Draco protested. "You should keep it."

"I want you to have it," Harry insisted stubbornly. "It's only right. I know technically that you're a Malfoy, but you're a Black, too. The last male one, as far as I can tell. Neville did try to explain the significance of these rings to me. Now I didn't understand most of it, but I know that they're important to pureblood families."

Draco slid the ring on his finger almost reverently. "Mother will just die when she sees this."

Harry grinned. "It should stay in the family, like an heirloom. Something to pass on to your kids." He blushed faintly over the last words, and Draco spotted it. He made a note of it and stored it away for future scrutiny.

He leant in and captured Harry's lips in a brief, intense kiss. "Thank you," he whispered pulling away. "I love it, and I love you."

Harry nuzzled at his neck. "Love you too," he murmured.

"Your turn now," Draco said brightly, ending the moment.

Harry reached for his gift, which, ironically, was wrapped in gold with a red bow atop. Like Draco, he made short work of the wrappings, and found himself presented with a square, leather case. Not unlike Draco's potions kit.

Eagerly, he flipped the catches and peered inside. His breath caught as he reached in and extracted an ornately carved Pensieve. It was not as large as Dumbledore's had been, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Looking further into the case, Harry noticed that there was already numerous glass tubes filled with silver, swirling memories.

"What are these?" he asked eagerly.

Draco flushed a little. "Mostly they are of your parents. I know how much you've missed never really knowing them, so I got people who did to give me their memories. Everyone was glad to do it; Aunt Andromeda, Mr & Mrs Weasley, Hagrid, even Professor McGonagall."

Harry's mouth had dropped open wide somewhere during the middle of Draco's sentence. Seeing the blond had finished talking, Harry launched himself into his boyfriend's arms.

"That is the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me. How do I even say thank you."

Draco smirked a little. "I'm sure I could make a few suggestions."

Harry gave him a light slap. "Pervert."

Draco grinned. "Talking of perverts, I slipped a couple of memories of us in there. Something to keep you warm on those lonely nights in Gryffindor tower."

"You didn't?" Harry looked somewhere between shocked and incredibly aroused.

"I did." Draco's expression was incredibly smug and Harry found he couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

When they finally sat down to dinner, Draco was impressed, not only with the standard of the meal that Harry had cooked, but also with the wine he had selected; it complemented the meal perfectly.

"That was delicious," Draco said, placing his cutlery on his empty plate. He picked up his wine glass and took a sip. "Where did you learn to do this? The food, the wine? It's definitely not on the curriculum at Hogwarts."

Harry chuckled at this. "The food comes courtesy of years spent at the Dursleys, and the wine, well, I had a little help with that."

"Who from," Draco enquired, wisely sidestepping any discussion of Harry's relatives.

"Your mother," Harry admitted sheepishly. "She was very helpful."

"I hope you didn't ask for her advice about the rest of the nights activities."

"Why, Draco?" Harry asked innocently. "What do you have in mind?"

At this, Draco got up and made his way round to Harry's chair with a predatory glint in his eyes. He insinuated himself onto his boyfriend's lap, straddling him so that their groins were brought into very close contact.

"Tease," Harry accused, shifting his chair further back from the table. He wrapped his arms around Draco's torso, sliding his hands under the back of his jumper.

As he felt Harry's palms skimming down his skin, Draco buried both hands in his boyfriend's thick hair and crashed their mouths together. Their tongues duelled for dominance, even as they ground their bodies together harder.

Pulling away, slightly breathless, Draco began running his fingertips gently over his boyfriend's face, tracing his eyes, cheekbones, nose and finally, his lips.

"Harry," he started, sounding unusually uncertain. "I have another present for you. I wasn't sure if I would be able to give it to you tonight, but this is perfect."

Harry just smiled at his boyfriend lovingly. Thus encouraged, Draco dug into his trousers pockets and removed a small box. Harry withdrew his hands from Draco's jumper and took hold of the gift. Seeing the nervous look on Draco's face, he gave him a quick kiss.

"Don't look so worried. I'm sure I'll love it."

Draco bit worriedly on his bottom lip as he watched Harry open the box. When wide green eyes looked at him in surprise, it was all Draco could do not to turn and hide.

"Draco," Harry gasped. "Does this mean…"

Draco nodded firmly. "Yes."

Harry looked from his boyfriend's face down to the glass vial of lubricant in his hand. "A-A-Are you sure? I thought you said-"

Draco leant in and cut him off with a quick press of his lips. "It doesn't matter what I said before. I want you, in every way possible. I love you, so much, and I want this. This is a part of me that I can give to you, something that I've never shared with anyone else."

Harry was still looking a little stunned, so Draco decided he needed a little more motivation. He trailed his tongue up his boyfriend's neck, kissing along his jaw line, before nipping at his earlobe. "I want you to fuck me, Harry," he murmured softly, his breath ghosting over his boyfriend's skin.

That certainly seemed to do the trick. Harry's breath hitched at Draco's words, and he ground his hips up against his boyfriend, pressing their erections together.

Draco reached round and buried one hand in Harry's hair, tugging his head backwards slightly. He claimed Harry's mouth in a bruising kiss, using his lips and tongue to convey that which he wanted to say, but was unsure of how to. Harry seemed to understand however, and he slid his hands round his boyfriend and cupped his arse firmly, pulling them closer together.

"Too many clothes," Draco complained, trying to tug Harry's jumper up over his torso.

Harry pouted slightly at the loss of contact. "Why don't we move this somewhere more comfortable?" he suggested.

"Which way is the bedroom?" Draco asked, on his feet already.

"I'm not sure, but maybe we could go over by the fireplace?"

Draco looked over to where a bright fire blazed in the hearth. In front of it, lay a luxurious looking fur rug; it was perfect. "I bet you've had this planned every since you saw that, haven't you?" he teased.

Harry blushed a little. "Maybe, although not like this," he replied, indicating the lubricant in his hand.

"Well, come on then, lover boy," Draco demanded, tugging Harry's hand impatiently.

They scrambled over to the fireplace with more haste than grace. Stumbling as they fumbled desperately to remove each other's clothing. By the time they got there, shoes and socks had been shed, as had both jumpers.

Harry pulled back and ran an appraising eye over Draco's torso, admiring the way the firelight gave his skin a bronzed glow.

"Lie down," he murmured huskily.

Draco did, relishing the silky feel of the fur against his bare skin.

Harry knelt down, straddling his boyfriend's leg. Leaning forward on his arms, he drank in the sight of his boyfriend, hair spread round his head like a golden halo, eyes dark with arousal, and lips rosy and kiss-swollen.

"You're beautiful," he said, reaching out and brushing silken strands of hair back of Draco's face.

Although Harry had fantasised about this moment, about taking Draco, making him his, he had never really thought it would happen. Draco had made his feelings about 'bottoming' quite clear early in their relationship. Harry understood what weight of trust his boyfriend was placing in his, allowing himself to be so vulnerable.

Now that he had the chance, he wasn't going to waste it. He was going to make love to Draco, worship his body as it deserved. Even if he never got this chance again, Harry was determined to make this the most perfect night ever.

Harry lowered his head and began raining soft kisses on Draco's lips. "Are you sure?" he asked, noticing a flash of nervousness on the blond's face

Draco nodded. "I'm certain. Harry, please, I need this."

The slight waver in his boyfriend's voice caused a tightening in Harry's chest. He ran his hands soothingly down Draco's arms and over his torso, pausing to gently circle his nipples.

"I'll make it feel really good, I promise."

"I trust you," Draco gasped, his body arching off the floor as Harry's mouth lowered onto his pebbled nipples.

Harry's hands trembled slightly as he began working Draco's belt loose, sliding the undoubtedly expensive leather free, and tossing it to the side. He noted with satisfaction, just how much Draco's erection was straining against the confines of his trousers.

Unable to help himself, Harry leant down and nuzzled his boyfriend's cock through the fine fabric.

"Harry," Draco whimpered, his hips thrusting desperately.

"Patience," Harry chided, his fingers tracing along the straining fly. He finally took pity on his whimpering boyfriend, and began to pop the buttons slowly.

"Lift up," he instructed when they were all undone.

Draco complied eagerly, raising his hips off the ground so that Harry could tug his trousers free.

These, too, were swiftly cast to the side, with little care for their state.

Harry couldn't suppress the grin that spread over his face as boyfriend's erection sprang free. "No underwear, Draco? Someone was planning on getting lucky tonight."

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared," Draco replied huskily.

Harry smiled again, before reaching out and curling his fingers around Draco's shaft. "You're so hard for me," he murmured.

He lowered his head and allowed the head of Draco's cock to rub over his lips, leaving a glistening trail of pre-come it its wake. Looking back up at his boyfriend, he licked his lips with obvious pleasure. "You taste so good," he groaned.

"Suck me, please," Draco begged, arching off the floor, trying desperately to bring his cock nearer to the inviting warmth of his boyfriend's mouth.

Eager to please, Harry lowered his head and ran his tongue the length of Draco's shaft. The resulting moan was enough to set his own erection throbbing needily.

Bring one hand up to caress his boyfriend's sac, gently massaging the tender flesh, Harry finally wrapped his lips around Draco's cock. He flicked his tongue against the leaking tip, teasing lightly, before taking almost the whole shaft into his mouth.

Freeing his hands, Harry struggled to open the bottle of lubricant without losing the glorious feel of Draco's cock, heavy against his tongue. When he had finally coated his fingers in the oily substance, he trailed one down, behind Draco's balls, until he was slowly circling his puckered opening.

Draco wriggled in pleasure as he felt Harry's finger slid all the way inside him, slowly moving in and out of his tight channel. A second finger joined it quite quickly, and Draco fought to keep a wince of pain off his face.

Secluded in the privacy of his own bed curtains, Draco had experimented in anticipation of this moment. But Harry's fingers were clearly much thicker than his own slender digits.

The sharp intake of breath he gave did not escape Harry's notice. Green eyes looked down at him worriedly.

"Shit, Draco! Are you okay? I didn't mean to hurt you."

Draco raised his hand and lovingly caressed his boyfriend's cheek. "It's okay, I know. Anyway, it's passed now."

"Are you sure?" Harry's tone was clearly sceptical. "We can still switch, if you want?"

"And let you get out of all the hard work again?" Draco snorted. "Not a chance."

Harry smiled tenderly, realising his boyfriend was still extremely nervous behind his bluffing. He ran his free hand soothingly down his flanks. "You have no idea how hot you look right now."

Draco rolled his eyes, indicating he knew exactly how hot he was, thank you very much. "Quit stalling and get back to work, Potter." The tender smile on his face belied the blond's snarky words.

Harry knelt back between Draco's invitingly spread thighs and resumed his ministrations gently. "Okay?" he asked worriedly, watching Draco's face intently for any sign of discomfort.

Draco nodded. "I'm fine. Just make sure to really stretch me. I think I'm going to need it."

Harry began scissoring his oiled fingers inside Draco, feeling the ring of tight muscle begin to loosen. Just before he tried for a third finger, Harry began lapping and sucking at Draco's cock,

teasing the slit mercilessly with the tip of his tongue.

Finally, when he was satisfied that his boyfriend was sufficiently prepared, Harry sat back on his heels and drank in the picture that Draco made, pale limbs splayed out on the lush, fur rug, hair mussed, skin flush with arousal, proud erection jutting forth.

He reached again for the vial of lubricant and poured a generous amount into his palm. After ensuring that his cock was well slicked, Harry looked at his friend apprehensively.

"How do you want to do this?"

"Well, I was rather hoping you would stick your cock up my arse," Draco drawled, unable to help himself.

Harry grinned. "You know what I mean."

This time Draco answered with actions, not words. He raised his legs and, hooking his hands in the crook of his knees, he held them back against his chest.

Harry's mouth virtually watered at the sight of his boyfriend's entrance, already loosened, just waiting for him to fill. He guided his cock until it was nudging against the blond's hole.

"Just go slowly," Draco said nervously.

Harry nodded; his heightened state of arousal had seemingly wiped his ability to form coherent words.

The tight heat of Draco's arse was overwhelming, and it was all he could do not to slam in and pound his boyfriend hard. However, with more self-control than he realised he had, Harry slowly inched inside, his eyes fixed on Draco's face for any sign of discomfort.

Once he was fully seated, Harry stilled his movements. He ran his hands soothingly down Draco's thighs, and over the swell of his buttocks, while he waited for the blond to be ready.

Draco finally straightened his legs, hooking them over Harry's shoulders, so that it raised him off the floor. He wriggled slightly, before rasping, "move."

Needing no further words, Harry began to slowly thrust into his boyfriend, struggling to hold on as the tight muscles of Draco's arse rippled around his shaft, threatening to push him over the edge.

He tried his best to angle his thrusts in search of Draco's prostate, wanting his boyfriend to experience the amazing sensations that that could produce. After several attempts, Draco began mewling in pleasure, letting Harry know he had been successful.

"Stars?" Harry questioned.

Draco only nodded, his eyes screwed tightly shut, his perfect, white teeth, biting temptingly on his pouty lower lip.

Harry increased his pace, driving into his boyfriend with more force now. He watched as the darker flesh of his cock buried itself inside Draco's pale arse. It was incredible how that tight little hole just swallowed up his erection so greedily.

Draco slid one of his hands down to his own neglected erection, circling it firmly and beginning to stroke. Harry found the sight of his boyfriend wanking incredibly arousing, but he wanted to be the one to make Draco lose control. He placed his own hand firmly over Draco's, taking control of the strokes, timing them with his own thrusts.

"Don't stop," Draco whimpered. He was that far gone now that he didn't care about begging shamelessly.

"I won't," Harry gasped. "Not till I fill you with my come."

Draco's eyes shot open at his boyfriend's words, and Harry could see that they were clouded with lust. "Fuck, Harry," he groaned, arching up off the floor.

As he watched his boyfriend's orgasm begin to rip from his body, Harry let go of the tight, rigid control he had put on his own arousal. The sight of Draco splashing over their joined hands, and the feel of his arse pulsing wildly, were enough to tip Harry over the edge.

With one last deep thrust, he buried himself fully inside Draco and unleashed his own orgasm. As he felt his semen flooding into his boyfriend, Harry lifted their joined hands to his mouth and began to lick them clean of come.

"Fuck, that's hot," Draco groaned, watching his boyfriend's antics through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Not as hot as you," Harry returned, lowering his body so that he was lying fully on top of his boyfriend, their sweat coated bodies pressed together.

They lay like that, kissing languidly for several minutes, just wallowing in the afterglow of their mutual release.

"Was that good?" Harry asked, a little self-consciously.

Draco chuckled throatily. "Yes, Harry," he said affectionately, "it was good. Bloody fantastic in fact."

"So does that mean you'll want to bottom more often then?"

Draco looked intently into his boyfriend's eyes. "I don't mind. Why, do you prefer being on top?"

Harry paused for a moment before speaking. "Well, I did enjoy it, and I think it would be nice to have a change now and again."

"But you'd rather bottom?" Draco queried.

Harry nodded shyly; he had thoroughly enjoyed getting to fuck Draco, and he knew he would quite like to do it again in the future, but he honestly much preferred the feeling of being filled.

"Thank fuck for that," Draco said in relief. " Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed that. But I just love the feel of sliding inside your tight little hole."

Harry let his head rest on Draco's shoulders, relishing the feel of his boyfriend's hands skimming over his naked body. He pressed light kisses along the side of Draco's neck, flicking his tongue out lightly, tasting the saltiness of the blond's skin.

"We're going to be stuck together if we don't clean up soon," Draco said finally.

"Way to kill the mood," Harry grumbled.

"I'm just being practical. It would be even more of a mood killer if we had to peel ourselves apart later."

Harry began nipping at Draco's earlobe. "Why don't we get clean together then? There's a big Jacuzzi in the bathroom."

Draco grinned up at him lazily. "Are you suggesting we go in there to clean, or for round two?"

Harry sat back on his heels and leered down at his boyfriend. "I was hoping for both."

Draco's eyes glinted with excitement. "What are we waiting for then? Help me up?"

Harry stood up and held his hand out, pulling the naked blond to his feet, and led them in the direction of the bathroom.

Draco landed a light spank on Harry's bare buttocks as they jiggled while he walked. "Come on, Potter, hurry up. Once I've got you in that bath, your arse is mine!"


	59. Gay Icons

* * *

It was only days since their return from Romania, but to Harry it already felt like weeks. The short break had allowed him and Draco the necessary space to get their relationship back on track, but it had been over all too soon.

Although Harry had tried his best to forget, the sting of Draco's words following, the now dubbed, Polyjuice incident, had lingered. The cutting remarks had seemed to come so easily from his boyfriend's mouth, and were not easily dismissed.

Whilst he understood why Draco had acted as he did, and had accepted his apology, there had remained small part of Harry that remained broken at his boyfriend's lack of trust.

But things were different now, after their trip. That night in the lodge, when Draco had given himself to Harry, had put the final shattered pieces of their relationship back together. Neither boy was truly at ease with expressing their deepest emotions, and Harry understood that Draco's actions that night spoke more about his feelings than any words ever could.

Truth be told, Harry was perfectly happy with his role as the 'bottom' in their relationship. Granted, he'd never had the experience of 'topping' to compare it to, but he never felt like he was missing out. Draco clearly preferred their roles as they were, so it had never presented a problem.

As wonderful as it had been to sheath himself inside his boyfriend, Harry had been far more overwhelmed by the trust implicit in Draco's submission.

His boyfriend, despite having had several sexual partners, had never bottomed before, and had previously admitted having no real desire ever to do so. That he was willing to share that part of him, a part no one else ever had, or ever would, get to experience, meant the world to Harry.

And for his part, Draco now truly understood the depth of his feelings for Harry. His actions had gone against everything he had ever been taught. A Malfoy submits to no one, his father had always told him, and Draco had been in complete agreement. But he no longer saw it as a sign of weakness, more as an expression of his love.

Returning to Hogwarts, with its separate bedrooms, public scrutiny, and the relentless inquisitiveness of well-meaning friends, had all been one hell of a come down for both of them.

When Voldemort had been alive, Harry had begrudgingly accepted that he was, to some extent, considered public property. But he had done what was expected, had gone above and beyond to call of duty to kill the evil bastard, in the vain hope of getting his life back.

Harry now doubted that would ever happen. On their return to school, Harry and Draco found that public interest in their relationship was just as fevered as ever. The Prophet was running daily articles about them, speculating on every aspect of their union, even the more intimate ones.

Professor McGonagall revealed to them that she had had to escort several reporters from the school grounds, and had even been forced to call on Hagrid to remove one particularly insistent fellow.

Draco tried to make light of it; he didn't really mind the attention himself, but he could see how it affected Harry, and he didn't want his boyfriend brooding on it.

The Wards around the school had been altered to prevent any further intrusion, and while Harry was grateful for this, inwardly he raged that, once again, he was having to be made a special case, a focus of people's attention.

"Don't let it bother you, Harry," Hermione advised, giving a disdainful glance at the morning's paper.

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed from behind the pages of said paper. "It's not that bad, anyway. They've actually said some pretty nice stuff about you today."

Harry glared at his oblivious friend; Ron didn't seem to understand that it wasn't what they wrote that upset him, it was the very fact that they were writing about him at all.

"Ron," Hermione chided, tugging the newspaper from her boyfriend's hands. "Stop reading that rubbish."

"But it's quite interested," he protested weakly, through a mouthful of bacon. "I didn't know there was such a big wizarding gay scene."

"Was there a reason you should, Weasley?" Draco drawled, unable to resist teasing the redhead. "Something you want to share with the group?"

Even Harry managed to crack a smile at his best friend's embarrassment, and Draco watched in relief as the frown faded from his face.

"I'm just trying to be supportive," Ron muttered defensively. "Apparently Harry and Malfoy are gay icons now. Some magazine is offering a million galleons for them to pose without-"

"Ron!" Hermione snapped, noticing the dark look on Harry's face. "None of that talk at the breakfast table."

Seeing Ron open his mouth, protests on the tip of his tongue, Draco decided to intervene. He made a long arm across the table and snagged the paper. Tossing it to the floor, he cast a quick Incendio, before banishing the ashes.

Harry reached under the table and squeezed his boyfriend's thigh, silently expression his gratitude.

"Hey! I hadn't finished reading that!"

"Really, Weasley, your interest in our sex lives is a little worrying." Draco grinned at the Gryffindor, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Of course, if you really want to know what we get up to, you could always stop by my dormitory later. I promise to leave the bed hangings open."

Ron flushed brightly as their end of the Gryffindor table erupted into raucous laughter.

"Never mind that," Pansy commented. "Just visit the Slytherin common room most evenings. You'll see things that magazine would pay thousands for."

The laughter continued, drowning out Harry's mortified groan.

"We might just do that," Hermione said finally, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry exclaimed as one.

"You dark horse, Granger," Draco added, smirking wildly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not for that. I just thought we might come visiting - see how the other half live, so to speak. It's not like we ever see you up in the tower now, Harry."

She paused here and gave Pansy a sly wink. "Of course, if I get to see two hot boys making out in the process, well, so much the better."

There was a loud thunk, as both Harry's forehead, and Ron's jaw, impacted with the table. Hermione and Pansy simply burst into delighted giggles.

* * *

Despite the teasing, Hermione remained true to her word. The following Friday saw her shepherding a very reluctant Ron in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons.

Even with the efforts that he had been making recently, Ron still struggled to let go of his deep rooted, preconceived notions of evil Slytherins - despite the recent thawing of relations between them.

Not that he doubted that Draco and his housemates were genuine in their efforts, but it was just such a shock to his somewhat narrow perceptions of the world.

Ron had struggled to accept Harry's relationship more than most - with the notable exception of his sister. The bad blood between the Malfoys and the Weasleys was long-lived, and Draco had certainly done his fair share in adding to it over the years.

But, whatever else his faults were, Ron cared deeply about his friends. He had only to see Harry and Draco together to understand just how happy the Slytherin made his best friend.

He still felt twinges of guilt over his abandonment of his friends during the horcrux search, so, despite his misgivings, Ron buried his personal feelings and grudges, and made a concerted effort to maintain cordial relations with his onetime bitter enemy.

He was forced to acknowledge the efforts that Malfoy made to be pleasant to him, and that this alone spoke volumes about the depth of the Slytherin's feelings for Harry.

Even though he and Harry had never really shared in-depth conversations about their feelings, Ron had been able to see the shadow of loss and rejection that marred his friend's life. So, if accepting Malfoy was what it took to keep Harry smiling like that, then Ron figured it was the least he could do.

His blustering protests, and there had been many, about visiting the 'Snake Pit' were just a front to hide his nerves. Hermione simply smiled indulgently at her boyfriend, and carried on blithely leading them towards their destination.

As Head Boy and Girl, they were in possession of the current passwords to all four of Hogwarts houses. So, after futilely attempting to knock on the hidden entrance, Hermione decided to forgo courtesy and they let themselves in.

Part of the wall quickly slid back, revealing the way in. Like Harry before them, the two Gryffindors stood hesitantly on the threshold, until their presence was noted by a wide-eyed first year.

They watched in amusement as the small boy scurried over to the group of chairs that surrounded the fireplace, seeking out Draco.

Spotting his friends in the doorway, Harry made to extricate himself from Draco's embrace. It was one thing Ron and Hermione knowing about their relationship, it was another thing entirely for them to see him snuggled up on his boyfriend's lap.

Draco's arms tightened round his waist. "Don't you dare," he murmured. "We're doing nothing wrong."

A quick glance at his boyfriend's face stilled Harry's escape efforts, and he made a concerted effort to relax - which was easier said than done. For some reason he didn't mind the Slytherins seeing them like this, but Ron and Hermione were different.

Ron and Hermione were shepherded over by Millicent, who, being more familiar with them from prefect meetings, had gone over to greet them.

"Hermione. Ron." Draco spoke in warm tones, and only those closest to him understood the effort it took to use their first names. "Welcome to our humble dungeon at last."

The visiting Gryffindors quickly took the proffered seats and took to looking around the assembled group. Hermione could tell from her boyfriend's expression the exact moment he noticed Harry snuggled up to Draco, and she gave him a warning glare that spoke volumes about the consequences of him not holding his tongue.

Seeing Ron open his mouth to speak, she held her breath for whatever tactless remark was about to come out of it.

"Merlin! No wonder it's so quiet up in the tower nowadays. You're all hiding out down here." This comment was directed at not only Harry and Neville, who were with their boyfriends, but also to Seamus who had just appeared, looking slightly rumpled, from the direction of the girls' dormitory, with Daphne Greengrass in tow.

"What can I tell you, Weasley. It's clearly the place to be." Draco couldn't quite hold back the smug smirk.

Ron looked around the room. "It's okay, I suppose. It's changed a bit since last time I was here."

"Ah, yes. The infamous Polyjuice incident," Draco drawled, leaning back on his chair, satisfied with the look of surprise on Ron's face. "I heard about that."

"We had you fooled good and proper, Malfoy." Ron quickly regained his composure and sat back in his seat with a smug grin on his face.

Draco held up his hands. "You got me," he agreed. "Although, I'm not sure I'd be bragging about being able to pass for Crabbe or Goyle. I doubt they posed much of a challenge."

"Still, we fooled you," Ron retorted, clearly not willing to miss the chance to gloat.

"That you did," Draco allowed. "One thing does occur to me though," he said thoughtfully. "If you and Harry were the gruesome twosome, who was Granger?"

For no reason that anyone could tell, Hermione flushed a deep red while Ron and Harry laughed until their sides ached.

"Go on," Ron gasped, tears in his eyes. "Tell 'em whose hair you used."

"It wasn't Pansy, then?" Draco asked in surprised tones. "That would have been my guess."

"No, it's way better than that," Harry chucked, and Draco smiled indulgently.

"C'mon, Granger. Spill. We're on the edge of our seats here."

"Well," Hermione began reluctantly. "Only if you promise not to laugh."

There was a murmur of assent from the group, though the occasional snicker from her two best friends gave Hermione doubt as to its validity.

"It was supposed to be Millicent's." Hermione flashed a nervous smile at her fellow prefect.

"Supposed to be?" Blaise prodded.

"Yes, but there was a mix up with the hairs."

"She was Humphrey," Harry burst out, unable to contain himself any longer.

"You turned into Millie's cat?" Pansy was struggling to hold in her laughter.

Hermione nodded mournfully. "I had a tail and everything."

That was too much for the others. Promises forgotten, the common room echoed with peals of laughter.

"You promised not to laugh," Hermione accused, a little disgruntled.

Ron wrapped his arm around her. "It's okay," he soothed. "We're laughing with you, not at you."

"I'm not laughing, Ron," she replied sharply.

"Don't take it to heart, Granger. You're not the only one to have a bad Polyjuice experience. We spiked Theo's drink after the Yule Ball in the fourth year and turned him into Filch."

Laughter rang through the dungeons again, with even Hermione joining in this time.

"Merlin!" Ron gasped. "It's a good thing that Fred or George never got their hands on any of that stuff. Can you imagine the carnage?"

The conversation then turned into a heated discussion of some of the twins' greatest pranks, and Ron was strangely proud to realise that his brothers had earned even the Slytherins' respect.

"That exit of theirs was just pure class," Blaise commented. "The look on Umbridge's face."

The mention of their old professor killed the mood somewhat.

"Glad that bitch is in Azkaban, where she belongs," Ron muttered darkly.

Sensing the conversation was heading into murky waters, considering the whereabouts of several Slytherin family members, Hermione decided that a change of topic was in order. Being Hermione, though, her repertoire was somewhat limited.

"Can you believe it's less than three months till the NEWT's start?"

A chorus of groans greeted her comments, but all thoughts of Azkaban were forgotten.

"Hermione!"

"Bloody hell, Granger!"

"Don't remind me!"

"I know," Hermione agreed with Draco's last comment. "I'm nowhere near ready."

Ron snorted disbelievingly. "Yeah right. You could have taken them at the start of the year and still passed with flying colours."

"Yes. I've seen your planners and colour coded notes," Harry put in. "You're as bad as Draco."

Harry was promptly tipped out of his boyfriend's lap and onto the floor, much to Pansy's amusement.

You never learn, do you?" she teased.

Harry simply shrugged and pouted up at his boyfriend before deciding to remain seated where he was. He leant back against Draco's leg, his head tilted slightly to rest on his boyfriend's knee.

Draco ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. "Don't listen to them, Granger. You'll have the last laugh when the results come out."

Ron gaped slightly at the sight of Malfoy defending Hermione. She, however, took it all in her stride.

"Exactly. See, Ron, someone else understands the importance of a well-planned study schedule."

"It's not like you have to worry," Ron grumbled. "You've already got your job sorted out."

Harry sat up at this news. "You didn't say," he said, in slightly injured tones.

"I only found out for definite this morning, and I wanted to talk to Professor McGonagall about it first, before I told anyone else."

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," Seamus chipped in, when she showed no signs of saying anything further.

"I've been offered an internship at St Mungo's," Hermione explained nervously.

"You're going to be a Healer?" Pansy asked. "I've got to say, I never imagined you doing something so…hands on."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think I've quite got the patience or the bedside manner for that. I'm going to work in research, mainly into long-term spell damage. Professor McGonagall recommended me. It's a really very interesting field of study."

"That's great, Hermione. Well done," Harry said warmly. "At least one of us knows what we'll be doing next year."

"I thought you were planning on being an Auror?" Seamus questioned. "'S what you used to say."

Harry shook his head. "I changed my mind. I figured it's time to leave fighting the bad guys to someone else."

"So what are you going to do," the Irish boy pressed.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. Truth be told, he had been trying his hardest not to think about what would happen once school finished. Both in terms of his career and his relationship with Draco. Hogwarts was the only real home he had ever known, and the idea of leaving it behind was more than a little scary.

"I'm not sure," he admitted finally, in a tone that clearly said he was saying no more on the subject.

"Well I'm still joining the Aurors," Ron commented. "Providing I get the NEWT grades that I need."

"Of course you will," Hermione chided. "I've already told you that I'll help you study for them."

Hermione wisely ignored the look of mock horror on her boyfriend's face at this offer. "So what's everyone else planning to do?" she asked, turning the question to the group at large.

"I'm coming back to Hogwarts as Professor Sprout's assistant," Neville said quietly.

"Teaching?" For the life of her Pansy couldn't keep the incredulous tone out of her voice.

"No, I won't be teaching. It's just so that I can learn more about Herbology. It's only for a year, and then I'm planning to open up a nursery of sorts, supplying potion ingredients, that sort of thing."

There was an almost stunned silence following this revelation. Blaise beamed at his boyfriend with pride, while the others looked at Neville with a newfound respect.

"Impressive, Longbottom," Draco commented finally. "There's definitely a market out there - especially if you specialise in some of the rarer plants."

Neville nodded thoughtfully. "I had wondered about that. Maybe…maybe I could pick your brains about it sometime?"

Still adjusting to the 'new' Draco Malfoy, both Hermione and Ron waited expectantly for his scathing rejection of this tentative request. And even Neville himself seemed both surprised at his own forwardness, and nervous about the outcome.

"Sure," Draco agreed amiable, to the surprise of all concerned. "I'd be happy to give you the benefit of my extensive knowledge." He wound up with an almost friendly smirk, causing Neville to let out a breath he had unconsciously been holding.

Blaise grinned at his best friend, who simply raised an eyebrow in return, as if to say 'what did you expect?'

"So, what about you, Malfoy?" Ron quizzed good-naturedly. "How are you planning to share that 'extensive knowledge' with the world?"

Harry tilted his head back to look at his boyfriend. Despite the numerous emotions and secrets that they had shared, they had always shied away from talk of the future. Harry rather suspected that Draco thought about it quite a lot, but avoided the subject in the knowledge of his feelings on the subject.

He was as keen as anyone to know exactly what Draco intended to do after school, realising the implications that it would have for his own future.

Sensing his boyfriend's gaze, Draco smiled down at Harry and, again, ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Well, my plans have changed quite a bit in the last year or so, as I'm sure you can imagine." It was left unsaid, but all gathered knew that this was a reference to Draco's previous destined career as a Death Eater.

"I was going to apprentice to Professor Snape for a year, like Longbottom is doing with Sprout. But, obviously, him being inconsiderately dead rather put an end to that plan. And before anyone suggests it, no, I couldn't just do the same with Slughorn. Apart from the fact that the man barely gives me the time of day, Professor Snape promised he would come back and haunt me if I let that glory-hunting imbecile train me. His words, not mine."

"He never did think very highly of Professor Slughorn, did he?" Daphne commented from her perch on Seamus' lap.

Pansy snorted. "Understatement! He loathed the man." She turned to her friend. "So what are you going to do then?"

"Open an Apothecary," Draco replied blandly, as if it were the most natural thing for him to do.

There were numerous exclamations of surprise at this piece of news, before Hermione, the ever practical, spoke up.

"Where are you planning to open it? Diagon Alley?"

Draco shook his head. "There are no vacant shops there at the moment, I've already checked. The only remotely suitable site was the old Borgin and Burkes shop, and I really want to move away from the connotations that Knockturn Alley would produce."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, that's probably a wise decision. So where will you go, then? I can't imagine there's much call for an Apothecary in the Muggle world."

"I would think not, no. Don't worry, I'm not about to introduce the Muggles to the delights of Pepperup Potion anytime soon. We, or rather, my parents already own a number of properties in Hogsmeade, as investments. Well, one of the tenants has given their notice to quit."

"Which one?" Pansy asked curiously.

"That old book store next to Quality Quidditch Supplies."

Pansy shrugged, having paid little attention to this particular shop over the years.

"I love that shop." Hermione bemoaned. "I can't believe it's closing."

"Now I am shocked," Draco drawled. "Granger loves book stores."

There was a ripple of laughter at this comment, with even Ron joining in.

"Seriously, Hermione, I wouldn't worry about it. It won't be happening for a good few months yet. By which time you'll be firmly ensconced in St Mungo's, with this place just a distant memory.

"Looks like I'll be seeing you around quite a bit then, Malfoy," Seamus commented, his tone casual, but his closer friends could see the glint of excitement in his eyes.

"Really, Finnegan, do enlighten me." Draco deliberately kept his tone lazy and almost uninterested, not wanting to give the excitable Irish boy the satisfaction.

"I'm buying the Three Broomsticks."

"With what?" Ron questioned disbelievingly. "Leprechaun gold?"

"No." Seamus looked more than a little put out, so Daphne began stroking her hand soothingly down his chest. "I've got some money that me da left me, and me uncle Ronnie is putting the rest up. Or at least, he will, once Ma's finished working on him."

"An Irish man running a pub. How unusual," Pansy teased.

"I didn't know it was up for sale," Hermione commented.

"It's not common knowledge," Seamus admitted. "Auntie Bridget is friends with Madam Rosemerta. Apparently she can't face coming back to it, not after…"

There was an awkward pause and several covert glances were shot in Draco's direction. Harry felt his boyfriend tense up, so he began discreetly running his hand soothingly up and down his leg. "So she's selling it, then?" he asked, in an effort to encourage Seamus to continue.

"Yeah." Seamus nodded. "It's a reasonable price, too. But Uncle Ronnie takes some convincing to part with his cash."

"You know," Blaise said thoughtfully. "I might just have a solution to that."

The group, Neville included, turned to look at him speculatively.

"I've haven't got any real plans made for after school yet. I was just going to go back to Italy for a bit, and then mooch around the Med, seeing the sights."

Pansy gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'playboy', but Blaise ignored it and continued.

"Obviously, things have changed. I've got ties here now." He reached out and placed his hand on top of Neville's. "I've got plenty of money to invest; maybe we could do it together?"

Seamus smirked slightly and Blaise grimaced in return. "When I say 'do it together', I mean buy the pub, Finnegan, not have sex."

Neville shot a fierce glare at his roommate, while the others chuckled over Seamus' antics, who was now pouting rather adorably.

Blaise shook his head. "We'll discuss this later. Preferably after Daphne has sorted you out, and you're not so sexually charged."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Daphne purred, nuzzling up to the Irish boy.

Harry couldn't help but grin at the expressions on Ron and Hermione's faces; they really weren't used to this kind of banter at all.

"Well, I'm off to Romania," Millicent announced in her usual throaty tones.

Ron perked up at this. "Really? That's where my brother works."

"I know." Millicent nodded. "I'll be living with him."

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. "What's he doing, setting up a harem of Slytherins?" He turned to Pansy. "You don't seem that bothered by this."

Pansy shrugged. "It was my idea."

Ron's face was slowly turning an interesting shade of puce.

"Relax, Weasley." Draco eventually took pity on him. "Millie is one of the few brave souls who continued on with Care of Magical Creatures to NEWT level. She's going to Romania for the dragons, not the burly redhead."

"Besides," Pansy added slyly, wanting to see Ron's reaction. "Millie's already bagged herself a Gryffindor, so she doesn't need mine."

Ron shook his head and held up his hand, as if to ward off further revelations. "I don't want to know. It's bound to be another one of my family or friends shacking up with a Slytherin."

"Poor baby," Hermione teased, ruffling his hair, to the amusement of all gathered.

"Nothing wrong with shacking up with Slytherins," Seamus commented, tightening his arms around Daphne's waist.

"I suppose you'll be moving to Romania too?" Ron questioned Pansy.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she shook her head emphatically. "I think it's a bit early for us to be living together. I like Charlie a lot, but I've only known him a couple of months."

"So what are your plans then?" Harry asked as she sprawled on the hearth rug near his feet. "You've never said."

"Because I don't have any. At one point my whole future was mapped out, but things changed."

"Well, what were you going to do? Before things changed, I mean."

"Marry Draco and have lots of little Malfoys," Pansy stated candidly.

This was no surprise to the assembled Slytherins, who had all been well aware of the long-standing agreement between their friends' families.

"But he's gay!" Ron blurted out.

"Like I said," Pansy replied. "Things change. So I have no idea what I'll do. I've never had to think about a career before."

"You can come and stay with me," Harry offered. "We can be directionless drifters together."

Pansy grinned warmly. "Sounds like a good plan."

"My future plans fell through, too," Daphne said. "Do you have room for another drifter?"

"Sure," Harry replied nonchalantly. "It will be a hardship, living with two beautiful women, but I think I'll manage."

"It's a good thing I know where your preferences lie, Potter. Or you and I would be having words about this."

The rest of the group laughed merrily at this, while Seamus, once again, pouted at his girlfriend.

"But I thought you would be a perfect buxom serving wench for my pub."

Hermione opened her mouth to chastise her fellow Gryffindor for his blatantly chauvinistic attitude, but she was stopped in her tracks when the 'wench' in question leant in and gave her boyfriend a smacker of a kiss.

Instead, Hermione simply shook her head; she would never fully understand Slytherins.

* * *

Draco lay cuddled up to Harry that night. But, despite the comforting warmth of his boyfriend's body pressed against him, sleep eluded him.

That afternoon's conversation, however light hearted it was, had seemed to trigger a slump in the Gryffindor boy's mood.

Draco had probed gently, all too aware of what could happen if Harry was left to brood, but his concerns had been shrugged off. However, Draco knew his boyfriend well enough to see behind the façade, and he was worried.

As he thought, his fingertips feathered lightly over the taught skin of Harry's bare chest, eliciting sleepy murmurs from the dozing boy.

"Harry," Draco murmured softly. "Are you awake?"

"No," came the grumpy reply, somewhat muffled by the pillow his face was buried in.

"Oh," Draco replied lightly, skating his fingers just under the waistband of Harry's pyjamas. "So I should probably just stop this, then?"

Draco had barely begun to inch his hand away before Harry clamped a hand firmly around his wrist.

"Don't you dare, Malfoy," he growled.

Draco chuckled. "I thought you were asleep?"

Harry huffed and rolled over to face his boyfriend. "Prick tease," he complained. "I was havin a very nice dream."

Draco slid his hand lower and could feel the heat of Harry's erection against his palm.

Harry bit his lip and thrust against the hand, which was then swiftly removed.

"Draco," he whined.

Draco raised himself up on one elbow, palm cradling his cheek. He gazed seriously through the darkness at his frustrated boyfriend. "What's wrong, Harry?" he asked eventually. "I know something's bothering you."

"I only have one problem right now," Harry teased, and began rutting against his boyfriend's leg to illustrate his point.

Draco scooted back a little. "I'm serious," he insisted. "You've been quiet all evening. Have I done something to upset you?"

"Merlin, no!" Harry exclaimed, taking hold of his boyfriend's hand and squeezing. "It's nothing anyone's done. I'm just being silly."

Draco raised Harry's hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. "I like it when you're silly."

Harry sank back into the pillow with a sigh. "It was just that conversation this afternoon. It got me thinking."

"I thought that had something to do with it. I know you don't much like talking about the future, Harry, but-"

"That's just it, though," Harry broke in eagerly. "Up 'til nine or ten months ago, I didn't think I was even going to have a future. So I never had to consider it. Even wanting to be an Auror was just something to say, I think. I got the idea cos my dad and Sirius were ones, and then Ron was dead keen on it, too. But I think that I only ever seemed set on it to piss Umbridge off. Because she said I couldn't do it."

Draco's hand splayed on Harry's warm chest, stroking lightly. "I'm glad you're not going that," he admitted quietly. "I don't think I could handle you being in danger all the time."

Harry covered Draco's cool hand with his own, warmer one. "Me either," he confessed. "I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime. Like I said, it's someone else's turn now."

"You've got a future now, though. It's okay to think about it."

"I know. It's just…everyone else is so focussed. They know exactly what they want to be, and I don't have the first clue."

"So? There's no hurry. So you take a little longer to decide - who cares? I think you've earned the break more than anyone has. You've got the whole rest of your life to worry about careers and stuff. So what if you take some time out first?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess. But it's not just that. It's everything else, too."

"Such as?" Draco prodded, seeing that Harry had no intention of expanding further.

"Hogwarts has always kind of been my home, you know? My aunt and uncle had me in their house under sufferance, and they never for a moment let me think I was welcome."

"Bastards," Draco muttered harshly, and silently promised himself that Harry's relatives would pay, one day, for the way they had treated him.

Harry ignored the interruption. "Then I found out that I was a wizard and came here. It was like I belonged, for the first time ever. I know most kids can't wait for the school holidays, but it was always the other way around for me.

I missed this place so much last year, eve with everything that was going on. It's home, and you guys, Ron, Hermione, you and Pansy, you're like my family. And it's all going to end. Ron and Hermione will be busy with their careers, and then probably having a family of their own. And I don't begrudge them their happiness, but it's just something that I won't get to share in."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Harry wasn't done. "You'll be busy setting up your shop, and you've all got families of your own to go home to anyway."

Harry paused, and Draco remained silent. It wasn't often that Harry bared his soul like this, and he didn't' want to do anything to discourage it.

"I know it sounds self-pitying, but I just feel like I'm being left behind. You're all moving on, and I'm not. I can't imagine not seeing you every day."

Draco scooted closer and tugged Harry's willing body into his arms; Harry was always seen as the brave, conquering hero, and sometimes even Draco forgot that there was a scared, lonely little boy on the inside.

"We're not leaving you behind. I promise. Granger and Weasley will only be an Apparition away, and I'm fairly sure that Pansy will be only too happy to get under your feet on a daily basis. And as for me, what on earth makes you think we won't see each other every day?"

"Well, you'll be here, in Hogsmeade, and I'll be back in London."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Harry was a little confused.

"Why on earth would you be in London?" Draco demanded impatiently.

"Because that's where my home is," Harry replied, his tone clearly saying 'duh!'

Draco's expression softened and he leant in to gently kiss his boyfriend. "You might have a house there, but you just said yourself, it's not home. Anyway, I just assumed that we'd live together. There's a flat about the shop we could share. Don't you want to?" Draco nibbled his lip nervously.

Harry pulled back, a broad grin on his face. "You never said. What was I supposed to think, idiot."

"I never thought," Draco admitted reluctantly.

"So you really want us to live together?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course. We practically do, anyway. So will you?"

Harry returned Draco's earlier kiss with interest. "Yes, of course I will."

Draco sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin. For a minute I thought you didn't want to."

Harry grinned and nuzzled into his boyfriend's neck. "Well, I do. And now that that's sorted, how about you finish what you started earlier?"


	60. All In The Past

Draco let out a loud huff and gave up on his search for a particular Arithmancy text; every single blessed copy was gone.

"Bloody Ravenclaws," he muttered to himself. And Granger, too, he added silently. They were like a plague of damn locusts where textbooks were concerned.

Returning to his desk, which was already groaning under the weight of numerous bulky tomes, he sank into his chair and reached for a quill.

Very soon he was lost in his work. For as much as he scoffed at Hermione's bookworm tendencies, Draco really wasn't much better himself. All of which went some way to explaining his irritation at being interrupted.

There was a thud, as a large stack of books was dumped on the edge of his desk. Looking up, a scowl firmly in place, Draco found himself faced with the aforementioned bookworm, who was wearing a particularly purposeful look on her face.

"We need to talk," Hermione stated firmly, forgoing the usual pleasantries.

Draco's annoyance at being interrupted was further compounded by the sight of the longed-for Arithmancy text, perched atop the pile of books. Sliding his hand casually across the desk, Draco wondered if he could remove it without the Head Girl noticing.

"About what?" he enquired, trying to maintain eye contact.

Hermione was not to be fooled. Just as Draco's fingertips grazed the leather bindings, he received a sharp slap for his troubles.

"Hands off!" Draco swore afterwards that Hermione had actually growled.

"And pay attention."

Draco swiftly retracted his chastised hand and pouted slightly. "That hurt," he whinged.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That may work with Harry, but you're wasting your efforts on me."

Draco shrugged; it had been worth a try. "So, what was it you wanted to discuss so urgently?" he asked, reluctantly pushing his neglected work to one side.

Hermione cast her eyes warily around the nearby tables. Relations between the houses had taken great leaps forward that year, but the sight of the two of them, willingly conversing, was still garnering more attention than she liked.

Typical wizards, Hermione thought. They can handle Malfoy shagging Harry, but God forbid he should talk to a mudblood.

Discreetly producing her wand, she quietly murmured, "_Muffliato."_

But not quietly enough, it seemed.

"Hey!" Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "That's a Slytherin spell. Who the hell taught you that?"

Safely stowing her wand away, Hermione sat back in her chair, a smug smile of her face. "Actually, it's a Snape spell. He invented it."

Draco fairly gasped in shock. "But that's…Actually, never mind," he muttered, swiftly regaining his composure. "What is it you want to discuss?"

The smile faded quickly from Hermione's face. She leant forward in her chair, wearing a serious expression. "Ginny," she said shortly.

Draco's eyes narrowed at the mention of the redhead's name. "What about her?" he asked sharply. "What's she done now?"

"Nothing," Hermione replied. "And that's what worries me."

"You don't think that could just be the result of her mother's rather spectacular Howler?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't. Maybe for a few days, but it's been over two weeks. I know Ginny, there's no way that was enough to stop her. She was, is, obsessed with Harry. She has been for years, but this year something changed. She's been so intense, and it's going to take more than a verbal slap off Mrs Weasley to get her under control again."

Draco nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Not that I don't appreciate the insight, but why are you tell me this, exactly?"

"Because it's not over. I've been watching her closely for the last few weeks, her and Wayne, and they're planning something. I can't prove it, and I'm not sure what it is, but I know I'm right. And I can't talk about it with Ron, because she's still his sister, and Harry just clams up whenever her name is mentioned."

"I see," Draco commented. "So what is it you want me to do? Confront them? Warn them off?"

Hermione shook her head resolutely. "No. Definitely not. That would only make things worse. Ginny's not rational right now, and that could just tip her over the edge."

Draco frowned. "I don't see what I can do then."

"Just be aware of it," Hermione answered. "Ginny's never taken too kindly to not getting her own way; she'll be out for revenge."

"Revenge for what? Harry being gay? That's just ridiculous. She can't possibly blame him for that."

Hermione smiled sadly at this. "I don't think she does. I think she blames you."

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "For what? Making him gay? Do you even realise how ludicrous that sounds?"

"I know," Hermione agreed. "But I think we can both agree that Ginny passed common sense quite some time ago.

"I suppose," Draco admitted slowly. "If you're that worried, though, why don't you go to McGonagall?"

Hermione frowned slightly. "I did think about reporting her, but I don't really have any proof. My gut instinct isn't exactly enough evidence for Professor McGonagall to act on. Besides, I'm worried about the effect it would have on her parents. The last thing they need right now is more stress. I don't think either one of them has come to terms with losing Fred yet."

Draco nodded. "So what can we do, then?"

"Just keep your eyes open," Hermione advised. "And don't dismiss the threat she poses. Ginny's already proved what she's capable of doing, and I'm sure that Wayne is just egging her on."

"But what does he get from all this?" Draco wondered. "I mean, I understand what she's after, but why would Hopkins want to help his girlfriend pursue her obsession with another man?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione admitted reluctantly. "I've been wondering that myself. They don't seem to have a normal relationship. They can't do. Watching them recently, well, I think that maybe they're just…"

"Fuck buddies?" Draco finished, putting into words what Hermione was clearly reluctant to say.

She flushed slightly but nodded. "I wouldn't have put it quite like that, but yes, something like that. I half suspect that she's doing something similar with Dennis Creevey."

"Creevey?" Draco spluttered. "Isn't he a lot younger?"

"Two years," Hermione replied. "He's obviously got a huge crush on her, and Ginny's taking advantage of it. I'm sure that she's manipulated him into helping in her schemes, and then leads him on just to keep him on side."

"She's one twisted little bitch," Draco observed.

"She needs help," Hermione countered, though a small part of her secretly agreed.

"I'll keep my eye on her," Draco said carefully. "But if she does anything else to hurt Harry, then I won't be held responsible for my actions."

Hermione nodded sadly; she honestly hadn't expected anything else. "You really care about Harry, don't you?"

Draco fixed her with a glare that clearly showed his contempt for the question. "Of course I do," he snapped. "I love him."

Hermione's eyes widened at this revelation, and from the similar expression on Draco's face, it was plain that he had not intended to make such a confession.

"I didn't mean any offence by it," she clarified hastily. "It's just…the truth is, Draco, when you and Harry became friends, I had my suspicions about you. Even after the truth came out, I was still a bit wary."

Draco sat forward in his chair, protests on the tip of his tongue.

Hermione shook her head. "Just let me finish, please?"

Draco gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, before leaning back in his seat and motioning for her to continue with a wave of his hand.

"I love Harry like a brother," Hermione continued. "We've been through so much together over the years. But this year things have been different. Harry began pulling away from us. I knew it wasn't really to do with you; it started before that. But it was easier to blame you than it was to look for the real cause."

Draco smiled wryly. "So I was a convenient scapegoat?"

"Pretty much," Hermione said shamefacedly. "I'm not proud of it. I think we were just so wrapped up in our own lives, our own problems, that Ron and I didn't see how much Harry was hurting."

Hermione paused here and gazed at Draco shrewdly. "Harry was depressed. I can see that now. And I'm fairly sure that there's more to it than he's telling."

"I really don't think-"

"I'm not asking you to break any confidences," Hermione interrupted. "And I'm not prying. Merlin knows I've learnt the hard way, over the years, how Harry reacts to that. I'm just saying that I know things were bad for him this last year. Yet when I look at him now, I don't think I've ever seen him happier.

And if you're only even partly responsible for that, then I'm more grateful than I know how to say. I'm not afraid to admit when I'm wrong, and I definitely was about you. You're clearly good for Harry, and I apologise for doubting you."

Draco simply sat in his chair and gaped at the Head Girl. Never in his life had he expected to hear those words. He racked his brain desperately, searching for something appropriate to say. Coming up black every time, he settled for a heartfelt, "thank you."

* * *

Whilst Draco was busy making inroads into his NEWT revision, Harry was making his way, with trepidation, towards the Headmistress's office. A quick check of his recent memory could supply him with no misdemeanour that would account for the summons.

Harry only hoped that it wouldn't be another uncomfortable conversation regarding his mental well being; it was excruciating enough having to discuss such things with his Psych Healer, without his Headmistress getting in on the act.

He knocked softy upon arrival, and was promptly bade enter. Professor McGonagall was seated behind the large desk, a welcoming smile on her face.

She waved Harry towards a vacant chair and then leant forwards in her seat, her keen gaze causing him to shift uncomfortably.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter. I'm sure you are very curious as to why I've asked to see you." She paused here and Harry nodded.

"A little, yes."

Professor McGonagall smiled slightly. "Don't look so worried. You aren't in any trouble, or at least none that I am aware of."

Harry returned her smile and clamped down on the urge to tell his Headmistress to get to the damn point.

"I won't keep you in suspense any longer," she continued, almost as if she could hear his thoughts. "As I'm sure you are aware, there is a very important anniversary coming up."

It took Harry a few moments to grasp to what she was referring. As he listened to her continuing explanation, Harry felt the tightening of panic begin to squeeze at his chest. Professor McGonagall had managed to hit on the one topic, his own health not withstanding, that Harry would rather pull teeth than discuss.

Then, Harry realised that she was looking at him expectantly. Clearly waiting for the answer to some question that he had completely missed.

"So what do you think?" she prodded.

Harry flushed slightly and shifted in his chair. "Um…I don't…Could you repeat the question?"

"There is to be a day of remembrance announced for the anniversary of the final battle," Professor McGonagall explained patiently. "There will be a ceremony held in the grounds here, with the unveiling of a memorial also. The Minister thought it might be appropriate for you to say a few words."

Harry blanched as the full horror of what was being asked hit him. The very idea of giving a speech, especially on such a solemn occasion, made him want to run for the nearest toilet.

"No!" It came out a little more forceful than he had intended. "I'm sorry, but there's just no way. I can't."

"I understand that it is a sensitive issue, Mr Potter, but I really think you should give this some consideration. You were a prominent figurehead during the war; people looked to you then for hope, and the Minister feels it would be a boost for morale if you gave a short speech."

Harry's hands gripped so tight at the arms of his chair that his knuckles turned white. It took every ounce of his self-control to rein in his temper. Once again, he was being asked to sacrifice his own wants for the greater good. He had rather hoped that that would end with the defeat of Voldemort, but it seemed not.

"It shouldn't be about me," he said, his voice tight with suppressed anger. "I didn't do anymore than any other member of the Order. I don't want people to look up to me."

"But the fact remains that they do," Professor McGonagall said softly.

"Well they shouldn't," Harry bit back. "I'm sick of being some kind of glorified saviour. I did what was expected, what I had to do, because I didn't have a choice. Why can't they just leave me alone?" His voice died to almost a whisper with his last words, and even the hard faced Headmistress felt a pang of guilt.

"No one is going to force you to do this. Kingsley simply thought it might be a nice gesture. Many people close to you sacrificed their lives for this fight; I believe he thought you might like a chance to honour them."

Harry winced slightly and felt the urge to hex her for that comment. Put like that, he could hardly say no.

"I'd be no good," he muttered mulishly. "I wouldn't have a clue what to say. Hermione would be much better at it than me."

"Be that as it may, Miss Granger is not the Boy Who Lived. I know how you dislike that title, but the fact remains that there is a certain status and power that comes with it."

Harry shifted uneasily. "I don't want power."

"I'm sure you don't," Professor McGonagall agreed. "All the more reason that it is better placed in your hands. People will listen to you, Harry. This could be a chance to heal some of the breaches in wizarding society. Your example has led to greater unity in this school, why not spread that influence to the wider populace?"

"I don't know," Harry mumbled, already feeling his resolve crumbling. "I need to talk to…I need to think about it for a while."

"Take as much time as you need to decide. Discuss it with your friends, and Mr Malfoy. See what they think."

Harry nodded his agreement, before easing out of the chair and taking his leave.

Professor McGonagall sank back into her chair and watched him leave with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Harry will make the right decision, Minerva. Don't worry."

Startled from her reverie, Professor McGonagall turned to meet the twinkling gaze of Dumbledore's portrait.

"You think he'll agree?" she enquired.

"Of course he'll do it," a scathing voice put in. "The boy never could resist attention."

"Oh, do shut up, Severus." The Headmistress aimed her wand at the sneering portrait of her predecessor and cast an efficient Silencing Charm.

Turning back to her old mentor, they shared a hearty chuckle at the outraged expression on Snape's face.

* * *

After leaving the Headmistress's office, Harry made his way down to the Great Hall for lunch. He hadn't seen Draco since breakfast, and it was embarrassing just how much he missed his boyfriend when they were apart, even for such a short period of time.

The vast majority of the school were already in residence when Harry entered the Hall. He headed straight for the Slytherin table; it was such a regular occurrence by now that no one batted an eyelid.

Honing in on the shining blond head that gave away Draco's location, Harry was more than a little surprised to see a shock of red hair amongst the snakes.

Sliding into the vacant seat at his boyfriend's side, Harry leant in and gave Draco a quick peck on the cheek, before turning a grin on his best friend.

"Did you get lost, Ron?" he teased.

A rather large mouthful of food prevented Ron from answering, but he brandished his fork in Hermione's direction by way of explanation.

"Honestly, Ron." Hermione huffed as she removed mashed potato from her sleeve. "You have the table manners of a troll. Stop showing me up."

Draco smiled approvingly at her; he had been biting his tongue over Weasley's eating habits for too long.

Pansy simply chuckled. "Don't worry about it," she replied. "When you've sat at the same table as Crabbe and Goyle for six years, even trolls look elegant."

"Where've you been, Harry?" Ron said finally, after managing at last to swallow. "I thought we were gonna play chess this morning."

Harry began loading his plate and smiled over at his friend. "I didn't feel like being humiliated before lunch."

"You're not that bad," Ron commented, busy spearing another sausage.

Draco snorted. "I thought you Gryffindors were meant to be honest?"

Harry gave his boyfriend a playful dig, before turning his attention to Ron's earlier question. "I had to go see McGonagall."

"You're not in trouble, are you?" Hermione asked, a small frown of concern creasing her brow.

Harry shook his head. "No, she just wanted to ask me something."

He then turned his attention back to his meal, and began loading another forkful of mash. As he raised it to his mouth, Harry noticed several inquisitive gazes were fixed on him. "What?" he demanded.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What did she want to see you about?" she asked, a touch of exasperation in her voice.

"Bit nosey, aren't you?" Harry teased.

Hermione flushed slightly, but stuck out her chin defiantly. "I prefer to think of it as concerned."

"C'mon, Harry," Ron added. "Spill."

There was a moment's silence as Harry gazed at his friends thoughtfully. He'd had every intention of discussing this with them, but had rather been hoping for a slightly less public setting.

"Kingsley's organising some kind of ceremony to mark the anniversary of the final battle," he explained finally.

"What? Here?" Ron questioned.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. They're going to put up a monument as well, I think."

"Like a Muggle war memorial?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I guess. I didn't really ask."

"I think that's a really good idea," Hermione said approvingly. "People shouldn't be allowed to forget what happened."

"So why did McGonagall want you? They want you to unveil it, or something?" Ron joked.

Harry coloured. "They want me to make a speech," he muttered, glaring warningly at his friends, just in case they were inclined to tease.

To his surprise, neither Ron nor Hermione seemed shocked by this news.

"Makes sense," Ron commented.

"Of course it does," Hermione agreed. "I'll help you work out what to say, if you like?"

"You think I should do it then?" Harry asked.

"Why wouldn't you?" Ron asked, a genuinely puzzled expression on his face. "Who else would they get to do it?"

Harry shrugged again. "Kingsley could do it, or McGonagall, or anyone from the Order. I don't see why it has to be me."

"You said no?" Hermione's eyes widened incredulously.

"Not exactly. I did to start with, but I told her that I'd think about it."

As he paused here, it occurred to Harry that Draco had yet to voice his opinion. Both he and Pansy had remained silent since the topic had been raised. He gave his boyfriend a gentle nudge with his elbow.

"What do you think?"

Draco dragged his gaze up to meet Harry's. "About what?" he asked, distractedly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "About whether I should do this speech, or not."

Draco's expression remained impassive and he gave a slight shrug. "I think it's up to you," he replied softly. "I'll support whatever you decide."

* * *

As he sat down to dinner with his friends later that day, Harry found it hard to tear his gaze away from the Slytherin table.

Draco had been quiet and withdrawn all afternoon, and no amount of coaxing or teasing would persuade him to reveal the source of his melancholy. Pansy clearly knew, if her squabbles with Draco were anything to go by, but she, too, had been a little reserved that afternoon, and had steadfastly refused to reveal the reason behind Draco's introspection.

This, on top of the worries over Professor McGonagall's earlier request, had Harry feeling very grateful that he had a visit with his Psych Healer coming up in the next couple of days.

However difficult he found it to verbalise his problems, Harry couldn't deny the release he felt following one of his sessions.

Harry didn't have time to dwell on such thoughts just then, though. Draco had excused himself from the Slytherin table, and was heading, alone, towards the exit.

Muttering something unintelligible to his friends, Harry was up and out of his seat in a heartbeat. Pausing only to acknowledge Pansy's wink with a brief nod, he headed purposefully after his boyfriend.

A quick burst of speed, and Harry drew level with Draco. He slid his arm through his boyfriend's and gave a gentle tug.

"Come on."

Draco looked up in surprise. "Where to?"

"You'll see," Harry replied vaguely.

Draco allowed himself to be led in the direction of the main staircase, before raising a protest. "I'm really not in the mood for a room full of Gryffindors tonight."

Harry paused for a moment, smiling softly at him. "We're not going there, I promise." He finished up by pressing a tender kiss to Draco's temple.

Somewhat placated, Draco followed his boyfriend without further protest, all the way to the third floor, until they came to a halt outside the Prefect's bathroom. When Harry pushed the door open, Draco could see that the room was softly lit by dozens of flickering candles.

"This looks familiar," he commented, a smile curving the edges of his mouth.

"Brings back good memories," Harry agreed, pulling Draco into the room and securely locking the door.

The enormous bath was already full to the brim with steaming hot water, and fluffy peaks of bubbles covered the surface.

As Harry reached out and began unbuttoning Draco's shirt, his boyfriend smirked at him. "Are you trying to seduce me, Potter?"

Harry grinned in return. "That depends. Is it working?" he teased.

Draco smirked at him slightly. "Keep going," he said loftily. "I'll let you know when you're successful."

Harry returned to the task at hand, and pretty soon both boys had shed their clothing and slipped into the hot, velvety-soft water.

Harry let out a satisfied sigh as he felt the tiredness of the day soak from his aching muscles; Quidditch practice had been particularly tough that evening. He reached out with one arm and snagged Draco around the waist, tugging his boyfriend towards him, until he was nestled between Harry's parted thighs.

Strong hands coaxed Draco backwards, until he was lying flush against Harry's toned chest.

"You're so tense," Harry commented, his hands skimming over Draco's shoulders.

Draco shrugged. "I guess."

"Lean forward a little, and I'll give you a massage," Harry offered.

Draco pulled away slightly. "That's okay," he said warily. "You almost crippled me the last time you tried that."

Harry chuckled throatily, taking no offence at his boyfriend's remarks. "Don't be silly," he chided, pulling Draco firmly into position. "That was ages ago. I've picked up a few tips since then."

Draco huffed disbelievingly, but made no further effort to move. In fact, as Harry's thumbs worked the knots in his shoulders, Draco felt himself relax slightly.

"See," Harry said triumphantly, as a small sigh escaped Draco's lips. "Now, how about you tell me what's been bothering you all afternoon?"

"Nothing's bothering me," Draco lied, and then yelped as Harry's fingers dug into a particularly sensitive spot. "Hey!" he protested.

"Well, tell me the truth, then," Harry replied. "You've been acting weird since lunchtime."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Draco tried to come up with a convincing excuse, and Harry tried to work it out for himself.

"Is it about the speech?" Harry guessed. "You don't want me to do it?"

"Merlin, no!" Draco exclaimed. "Of course you should do it."

"Are you sure?" Harry pressed. "Cos I really wouldn't mind if you didn't."

"You're not getting out of it that easily, Potter."

"Then what is it? C'mon, Draco, we said no more secrets, remember?"

Draco shifted uneasily, allowing his hands to rest on Harry's thighs, which cradled his body. He lay his head back onto his boyfriend's shoulder, struggling to come up with the words to express what he was feeling.

Harry waited patiently; he understood how difficult it still was for Draco to be this open.

"It's just, all that talk of remembrance ceremonies, it just reminded me of what I was, you know?"

Harry stroked his hands gently along Draco's sides, silently trying to sooth his boyfriend's troubles.

"I forget sometimes," Draco continued. "When we're like this, it's hard to imagine us being any other way, even though I know we were."

"Seems like a lifetime ago," Harry agreed.

"But that's just it, it wasn't. This time last year, we were on opposite sides of a war. My family…my father," Draco amended, "Was trying to kill you."

"It's all in the past," Harry said softly. "It's over with."

"But it's not," Draco argued. "It never will be. You're Harry Potter, and I'm the son of a Death Eater. There'll always be something, like this memorial, reminding people, reminding us of that."

"I don't care," Harry said firmly. "You're not your father, and you weren't a Death Eater. If people can't accept you being at my side, then they'll have to have their bloody ceremonies without me."

"But I shouldn't be there, Harry, I don't belong," Draco persisted, wriggling around until he was facing his boyfriend.

Harry's hands came up and cupped Draco's face. "I need you there. You know how I hate stuff like this. I'll never be able to do it without you there to hold my hand."

"You'll have Granger and Weasley," Draco muttered, trying to turn his face from his boyfriend's earnest gaze.

Harry leant forward and brushed his lips against Draco's. "It's not the same, and you know it."

"People won't like it," Draco said, his voice almost a whisper.

"I don't give a fuck," Harry growled fiercely. "I'm done with living my life to other people's expectations. Hermione reckons that this ceremony isn't just about remembering the past, it's about looking to the future."

Harry paused and slowly traced his thumb over Draco's lips. "You're my future," he continued, blushing slightly. "And that's all I care about."

Draco inwardly cursed his boyfriend; how could he possible refuse when Harry had that pretty flush on his cheeks, and that adorable, lop-sided smile on his lips.

"Fine," he said finally, sliding his body flush against Harry's . "But you'll owe me big time for this."

"What did you have in mind?" Harry grinned wickedly as he felt Draco's erection brush deliciously against his own.

"Presents," Draco said decisively. "Lots and lots of presents."

Harry's arms wrapped firmly around his boyfriend's waist and arched into his body. "I've got something for you right now," he teased, leering slightly.

Draco sniffed in mock disgust. "Store bought presents, Potter. You're not getting off that lightly."

But his actions belied his words, as Draco slid his hand down and firmly curled it around Harry's erection.

* * *

Some time later, two very wrinkly and equally sated boys made their way out of the Prefect's bathroom. When they reached the main staircase, Draco gave Harry's hand a gentle tug.

"Stay with me tonight?" he asked.

Harry smiled a little shyly. "Actually, I was thinking that maybe you could stay with me instead."

Draco frowned briefly, before his eyes widened in surprise. In all the months that they had been together, all the nights that they had shared the same bed, never had he stayed with Harry in Gryffindor tower. Mainly this had been born from the necessity of keeping their relationship secret, but even now they were out in the open, their nights together were always spent down in the dungeons.

"I don't have any pyjamas," Draco pointed out, and then instantly wondered why he was trying to talk himself out of spending the night in Harry's bed.

"Not a problem." Harry grinned.

"Before you suggest it, Potter, I am not wearing any of yours. There's a reason that I insist on you sleeping naked, and it's not just so I can take advantage of your body."

Harry laughed at his boyfriend's acerbic comments. "Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of expecting you to slum it in any of mine. I got Pansy to drop some of your things off earlier, just in case."

Draco opened his mouth instantly, ready to protest the presumption, but then promptly shut it again as it occurred to him that he really didn't mind.

"Won't it cause outrage among the innocent little Gryffindors? Their vaunted Saviour having sweaty man sex right under their very noses?"

"You're going to be sadly disappointed if you're expecting sex of any variety tonight," Harry replied. "I can barely walk as it is, after earlier. I'm certainly not letting you go another round!"

"Poor baby," Draco cooed. "Want me to kiss it better for you?"

Harry's eyebrow raised in interest. "Now that I might be persuaded to let you do."

"And they all think I'm the deviant. Have you at least got your Cloak so I can sneak in?"

Harry promptly produced his Cloak with a flourish and draped it over his boyfriend, all under the watchful eye of the Fat Lady.

"Lead the way, then, Potter," Draco prompted, giving his boyfriend a sharp dig.

Harry clambered through the portrait hole, trying his best to be unobtrusive when holding the door open to allow Draco through. Looking around the room, he was relieved to see that neither Ron nor Hermione were in residence; that would make sneaking up to his room much easier.

Entering the boys' dormitory, Draco made his way straight over to Harry's bed and pulled back the hangings, intent on being safely ensconced in Harry's bed before any of his roommates came to bed - especially that pervert Finnegan.

Hearing a somewhat muffled cry of indignation from his boyfriend, Harry turned from his wardrobe and headed over to the bed. Draco was standing, glaring at the bed in outrage.

"What's up?" Harry asked, tugging his jumper over his head.

"Did you say that Pansy brought my things up here?" Draco demanded.

Harry nodded, as he slid into his own pyjama top.

"I'm going to kill her," Draco snarled, picking up a pair of red and gold check, flannel pyjamas.

Harry looked at them in surprise. "Aren't they mine?" he asked. "I thought you threw those out when you overhauled my wardrobe? An offence to decent clothes everywhere, you called them."

A rosy flush spread over Draco's normally pale cheeks. He opened his mouth to reply, but just gaped, shifting uncomfortably, and unable to form a coherent sentence.

Harry looked from the fleecy pyjamas, to his boyfriend's adorably blushing face, and things fell into place. A beaming smile on his face, Harry stepped closer and wrapped his arms round Draco's tense frame.

"I love you," Harry muttered, his face buried in the crook of Draco's neck.

"You're an idiot, Potter," Draco retorted gruffly, pushing Harry away. He swiftly undressed and clothed himself in his boyfriend's old bed wear. "I only kept them because they're warm. It gets cold in those dungeons, you know."

Harry smiled warmly and nodded. "Come to bed, Draco," he murmured, having already slid between the sheets himself.

Draco clambered into the bed and promptly slid over to Harry's side, wrapping himself around his boyfriend's warm body. Harry shifted until he was comfortable in Draco's embrace, but felt a lumpy object digging in his side. Sliding one hand under the covers, he fished around until he located the offending article.

When Harry saw what had been causing him such discomfort, he couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Draco, however, was not similarly amused at the sight of the stuffed Lion in his boyfriend's hands

"I'm going to fucking kill Pansy," he snarled.


End file.
